Sideways
by CrissColferL0ve
Summary: Blaine is the most popular kid at school, he's also a bully. Kurt is the new kid and the victim of the football team, but bullying somebody doesn't necessarily mean you won't end up liking them, even if you try your best not to. Rated M for later
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Glee or anything to do with it, obviously. I've been calling this Bully!Blaine for the longest time, but I finally found a title! The title comes from the song **Sideways**, by Citizen Cope (thanks to **Rebecca** for being my DJ!) This is very AU. Quinn is Blaine's girlfriend and everyone is very much mixed around from what is canon. I also had to make Blaine a senior for this to work (welp because he **_should be a senior**). **_**Go with it, it'll add up at the end, I promise. I've been writing this for ages now and I'm six chapters in, so if you want to read more, please let me know and I'll keep going with it! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1:<strong>

It was the first day of senior year and there was a new kid.

There was never a new kid.

The last time there had been a new kid had probably been in the second grade, when that girl with the lazy eye and the crooked teeth had transferred from... somewhere. Blaine didn't remember, in fact, he wasn't sure he had ever even known to begin with. He didn't really bother to find out the minor details about everyone at McKinley High. He didn't need to. He was the one that everyone wanted to know, he was the one everyone wanted to be, even if, at times, he didn't really want to be himself.

Nevertheless, there was a new kid now. Blaine saw him from down the hall. He appeared to be having a brawl with his new locker. It looked as if he was muttering obscenities under his breath as he twisted the dial anti-clockwise with a lot of force. He would be acquainted with it soon enough, Blaine thought, he would probably end up inside it before the day was out.

He was interesting, this boy, in a strange way. He wasn't like any of the other boys who attended McKinley. At least, it didn't appear that way. Nobody dressed like that around here. Sure, some of the boys in Blaine's circle were quite well-off and wore designer clothing, but not like that. Blaine had designer sweaters, polo shirts, jeans, shoes, but he didn't own anything that even closely resembled what this boy was adorned in. His sequined vest, long-sleeved, tight-fitted white shirt and skinny, skinny jeans were only going to worsen matters for him. Soon enough the poor kid would be quaking in his patent leather, violet Doc Martins. Blaine almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Blaine watched the boy, curiously. He had his locker opened now and was pulling books from his over-the-shoulder bag, before placing them inside the locker. It all seemed terribly awkward and like a huge struggle. That was going to go against him, too, Blaine conceded, frowning a little.

"What's up, Anderson?" Noah Puckerman said, appearing out of nowhere, knocking Blaine from his reverie. He raised a muscled arm, waiting for Blaine to greet him in their usual fashion. Blaine bumped his fist against Puck's and gave him a smile.

"New kid," Blaine felt the need to point out, as he gestured towards the boy with the perfectly coiffed hair, as he studied what appeared to be his schedule with great interest.

Puck strained to see over the crowds, then grinned, his dark eyes flashing briefly, when he spotted the boy.

"Sweet," Puck chuckled, drawing out the 'e' sound in the word 'sweet'. "Once the guys are here, we can give him a proper McKinley High welcome!"

Blaine forced a laugh and straightened up, drawing his red letterman jacket over his chest. He knew what a 'proper McKinley High welcome' entailed. He had participated in enough of them. He watched as Puck began gathering the rest of the football team, as they passed by in the hallway. It wasn't long before at least eight guys were standing by Blaine's locker talking loudly and laughing boisterously, some of them holding cups filled to the brim with slushie.

Blaine peered across the hallway at the new boy again, still studying his schedule, his thin eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. Blaine felt himself shiver as he thought about what was about to happen to the boy, a strange emptiness forming in the pit of his stomach. If he had been a good person, he would have told them not to do it. If he had been a good person, he wouldn't even be friends with them in the first place. If he had been a good person, he would have walked away and left them to their machiavellian devices.

"Hey," Puck said, thumping Blaine on the shoulder, playfully. "Here ya go, man."

Blaine looked down at the cup of flavoured ice that Puck was holding out for him to take. He eyed the purplish slush and thought about how the ice would seep through the boy's clothing, soaking and staining his white shirt, destroying a hairstyle that appeared to have taken a long time to complete, to get just right. Blaine felt his stomach sinking a little, then mentally scolded himself for even thinking about this. What did some random new kid matter to Blaine Anderson? He had never cared before, why should he start now? Consciences were for wimps, that's what he'd told himself for so long, that was what he had to believe.

Blaine grinned, from ear to ear and took the cup, because Blaine wasn't a good person.

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><p>"Hey, new kid," Puckerman said in a sing-song manner.<p>

Blaine watched as the boy swung around to face the gang of boys all clad in red jackets, holding cups overspilling with coloured ice. He saw the horror on his face when he realised what was happening, saw the way his eyes—which appeared to be blue, Blaine couldn't really tell from where he was standing—widening, as round as saucers, saw his jaw go slack, his pale lips parting, saw the blood draining from his already-pale face. He saw his breath hitching in his chest, saw the terror in his eyes, saw how his schedule fell from his grasp and flitted to-and-fro until it hit the cold, hard ground. Blaine had seen kids panic in this situation before, but the terror in this boy's eyes was new and a little surprising to him.

"I —you..." the boy trailed off, words betraying him, as his bright eyes darted from each of the guys, grinning wildly at him. His eyes met Blaine's briefly, but quickly moved to meet the next person's.

"We thought we'd welcome you to McKinley with a nice," Puck said, taking a step closer. "Refreshing," the others moved forward, too, including Blaine, because that was what he was supposed to do. "Slushie facial," Puck finished, his eyes wide with amusement, his mouth twisted into a broad smile.

The boy took a small step back, but there was nowhere to go. He was cornered and no one was going to come to his rescue, no one ever came to anyone's rescue at this school, because no one dared face down Blaine and the football team. They got away with a lot of things, the teachers dismissing their actions because they came from money, or because they were needed on the team in order to help McKinley retain it's good name. This kid was going to experience a freeing, cold shower right in the middle of the crowded hallway and nothing and no one was going to prevent it from happening.

"And because you're brand, spankin' new," Puck continued, moving closer still. "I'm going to introduce you to our number one guy."

_Oh, no,_ Blaine thought, briefly and then Puck was tugging him into the centre of the circle, by the arm. Blaine felt his stomach twisiting again, painfully this time.

"New kid," Puck grinned, as he swung an arm around Blaine's shoulders, causing Blaine to flinch very slightly. "Meet my main man, Mr. Blaine Anderson. He's going to give you your first McKinley High welcoming party!"

Puck was looking at Blaine now, waiting for him to dump the slushie over the boy's head. Blaine felt eight sets of eyes on him, watching him expectantly, all clearly wondering why he hadn't done it yet. Which made perfect sense, because Blaine wasn't exactly sure why he hadn't done it yet, either. He was mean, he was rude to most people, he was a bully, really, even if he didn't like that term. He ate kids like this for breakfast. He would have to suck it up—whatever it was—and just do what he was supposed to do.

He looked from Puck to the guys, giving him encouraging nods, some of them letting out loud whooping sounds. Blaine looked back to the boy, his grey-blue eyes—Blaine could see the colour of his eyes quite vividly now and they really were a brilliant blue—watching him, pleadingly, almost begging him not to do it. But he had to, he didn't have a choice and if he did, he would choose to do it anyway, wouldn't he?

Blaine grinned, tearing his gaze from the boy's terror-filled eyes, then raised the cup high above his head.

"Welcome to McKinley," he said, with a cruel laugh. "I hope you'll find the temperature here to your liking."

And with that he emptied the contents of the cup over the boy's head. The others exploded with laughter and proceeded to pour the slushies they held over the boy, too. He squirmed and gasped as he slid to the ground, face buried in his hands, the freezing cold ice dripping down his fingers, his hair stuck to his head, his outfit stained all over.

"There'll be plenty more where that came from! " Puck whooped as he strolled away, high-fiving one of the other guys.

Blaine walked away with his crowd of friends, then made an excuse that he'd left something in his locker. He hurried back to it and opened it, pretending to rummage inside, as he watched the new boy out of the corner of his eye. The boy stood, cautiously, his entire body shivering with the cold. He watched as he slammed his locker shut with a loud groan, then walked slowly away.

Blaine waited until he was out of sight completely, before returning to the boy's locker. He bent and picked up the soaking schedule from the ground and studied it. As did all schedules at McKinley, this one had a small, square photograph of the boy in the left hand corner. It was difficult to see past the purple stains and the dampness, but his features could be made out; Those unmistakeable blue eyes, his thin, pale lips, downturned into a slight frown, the coiffed hair style. Blaine looked to the right, seeking out a name.

_Kurt Hummel._

He lowered his eyes to study the boy's classes, when he heard a voice behind him.

"Blaine, sweetie!"

He folded the paper quickly, careful not to tear it and shoved it in his jacket pocket, before swinging round to find his girlfriend standing there, smiling at him. Quinn Fabray was the captain of the cheerleading squad and the girl everyone wanted. She was your regular pretty, blonde, popular girl, like the ones in the movies. Of course, it was a given that she and Blaine would be an item. They had been just that for almost a year, now and were the 'It' couple at McKinley, now that they were seniors.

"What are you doing standing in that puddle?" she smiled, sweetly as she slipped an arm through Blaine's. "Well, come on, silly. We're going to be late for class!"

Blaine returned her smile and allowed her to pull him to their first class. He glanced back at the purple puddle near the boy's locker, now spreading down the hallway, along the small cracks in the tiles. He shook his head. What did he care about some stupid new kid? He was Blaine Anderson, the quarterback of the football team, the guy everyone wanted to be. He had Quinn Fabray, for God's sake! He needed to be that guy, the guy everyone looked up to, the guy everyone feared. No one feared a good person. And Blaine Anderson was most definitely not a good person.

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><p>"I'll see you at lunch, baby," Quinn said, giving Blaine a small peck on the cheek, before rushing out of the classroom.<p>

Blaine grabbed his bag and stood up. That strange feeling was still in the pit of his stomach and it was making him feel sick. The urge to vomit had remained with him all through class, but he knew that if he left class and went to the bathroom that he wouldn't quite manage actually vomiting. It was an odd feeling, a feeling he couldn't quite put a name to. He sighed and walked out of the room and into the crowded hallways, eyes searching for someone in particular. He peered around, eyes straining, looking for the hair, because there really was no missing that hair. He saw him then, standing by the bathroom, his head buried in a book.

Blaine sauntered across the hall, people stepping back to allow him through, no one making eye contact with him. He had reached his destination now. He raised a hand and knocked the book from the other boy's hand. It hit the floor with a quiet thud. Dark eyes looked up at him through thick, dark spectacle frames.

"Jacob Ben Israel," Blaine spoke over the crowds, grinning down at the other boy. "Let's have a little chat."

Blaine gestured for Jacob to follow him, as he pushed the bathroom door open and went inside. He made sure it was empty, then turned to look at Jacob standing there, the book back in his grasp, his wild hair like a frizzy cloud surrounding his face. He looked alarmed.

"You're aware of a new student in the senior class, I take it," Blaine stated, because Jacob knew everyone. He was like a little weasel, constantly getting into everyone's business.

Jacob nodded and opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine held up a hand, halting him and he stopped.

"What do you know about him?"

"Why?"

"_Why?_" Blaine said, angrily, stepping closer to Jacob, who cowered back a little, his hands fidgeting with the book. It was always easy to treat Jacob like a lesser person than he was, in fact, it was easy for Blaine to treat everyone in this manner, mostly because most people at McKinley _were_ lesser people than Blaine. He wondered what it was about this new boy that made him feel less confident in this. If he could boss Jacob Ben Israel around now, then that meant he hadn't lost his touch, or whatever it was. It meant that this boy was some form of exception and he didn't like that one little bit.

"I'm j-just wondering w-why you're so interested i-in a nobody like th-that," Jacob responded nervously, in his squeaky voice, his gaze on everything but Blaine.

It was a good question, but it was also a question Blaine could not answer.

"Because I want to know who's at my school, that's why," Blaine replied, eyes narrowed. "Now, tell me what you know."

Jacob swallowed hard and started talking.

"I d-don't know much, just that he lives with h-his dad. His n-name is Kurt and h-he's gay, I mean, at least I _think_ he is," he stammered, blinking uncontrollably.

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed, taking in this new information. The kid's sexuality hadn't even crossed his mind. There were no gay students at McKinley, at least none that Blaine was aware of.

"Okay," Blaine said, calmly. "I want you to find everything you can on him and report back to me before lunch. You got that?"

He stepped closer to Jacob and took a handful of his shirt. Jacob gasped and nodded quickly.

"Good," he said, releasing the boy. Jacob turned and began walking to the door. "Oh, and Jacob?" Blaine called after him.

Jacob turned and looked at him again, face stiff with fright.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm going to need a copy of his schedule, you think you can get me that?" Blaine knew he could. Jacob was in the newspaper department, which meant he had access to most of the student information files Principal Figgins kept in his office. Jacob nodded, once. "Tell anyone about this and I'll shave your head, though God knows I would be doing you a favour."

This time Jacob asked no questions, he simply nodded again before disappearing out the door, leaving Blaine standing there alone.

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><p>Blaine told his friends that he had to see his history teacher about a paper during lunch. He sat in the back corner of the school library, breathing in the scent of the dusty, old books surrounding him on the thick, wooden shelves, with two sheets of paper on the desk in front of him. He had no idea why, but his heart was beating painfully in his chest, his hands shaking. He looked down at the first sheet, which Jacob had handed to him as he passed him by in the hallway. He studied Jacob's uneven handwriting, trying to make it out.<p>

_Kurt Hummel, 17, from Westerville, Ohio. DOB: Dec. 15th 1994. Lives with his dad in Lima, is definitely gay (I asked him). Straight A student, left previous school for personal reasons-reasons not listed. Schedule attached. Please don't beat me up-JBI._

Blaine rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. Maybe the kid's phone number, or something. What Jacob had given him didn't really feel like enough. _Enough for what, though?_ he wondered, briefly, as he lifted the other sheet of paper and laid it down in front of him.

It was a replica of the stained, now stiff schedule in his pocket. He could see the photograph more clearly now. The kid—_Kurt_—looked like someone had just told him his pet goldfish had been killed by the neighbour's cat. He had looked much the same when Blaine had laid eyes on him for the first time in the hallway, as he fought with the combination on his locker. His eyes were sad and the colour of the sky in the summer time.

He was frowning, too. He looked miserable. Blaine wondered why he looked so sad. He lived with his dad, maybe his mom had died recently? Perhaps she'd run off with another guy? Blaine's mind was filled with ideas, his imagination running wild. He had no clue what had happened to this boy, but there was something behind those baby blues, something Blaine could see even in this small photograph, something that compelled him to want to know more about him.

His head snapped up when he heard the first bell chiming, the one that reminded the students that class started in fifteen minutes. He looked around the empty library, only the librarian chatting quietly to somebody on the phone was present. He stood up and picked up his belongings, before heading out the door, heart racing from the shock the sound of the bell had given him just moments before. He walked upstairs to where the lockers were. The hallway was completely empty, not a soul in sight. He stopped at the new boy, Kurt's, locker and looked around again, making sure no one was around, before pulling the clean, dry schedule from his pocket. He stood still for a moment, heart thumping loudly in his chest, then slipped the page through the small slit in the locker door.

He walked away before anyone saw him there, his heart still beating wildly against his rib cage, that emptiness still present in his belly. Only when he had reached the end of the hallway did he breathe a sigh of relief, but there was still something nagging at some part inside of him, something, somewhere that he could not quite place, but he hoped it would go away soon, because he couldn't afford to have to deal with the consequences that it might entail if it didn't.

Blaine turned the corner, the sound of students coming towards him in the distance, and painted a smile across his face, because that was what he had been programmed to do, every single day since before he could remember.

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><p>Kurt Hummel had spent his entire lunch hour sitting by himself in an empty classroom, picking at the sandwich his dad had packed into a small paper bag for him, not willing to risk bumping into that bunch of Neanderthals that had attacked his face with flavoured ice earlier that morning.<p>

He had been hopeful coming to McKinley High, coming to Lima, in general. He thought that once he was away from Westerville, that he would be leaving all of the bad things behind, but apparently this was not the case. He wondered if he should just accept the fact that he was going to spend the rest of his existence a victim, the target of all snide remarks and angry fists and now, cups of freezing cold iced beverages.

He left the empty class room when he heard a bell clamouring from the intercom over by the door, assuming that it meant he had to get to class pretty soon. He had been struggling all morning, asking random people what class they had next and trying to figure out where he needed to be, he'd even missed two classes. He had dropped his schedule earlier, when the jocks had surrounded him and when he'd come back from drying himself off, the schedule had disappeared. Initially, he figured that the cleaners must have discarded of it, but then he saw that the pool of purple liquid was still very much covering the path from his locker to the lockers across the way.

When he arrived in the hallway in which his locker stood, he saw that no one was here yet. He was early. He cursed under his breath, because he was always getting himself into awkward situations like this. What in the name of all that was holy had that bell been for?

Kurt sighed as he fought to turn the dial on his locker. It was ridiculous. It shouldn't have been as difficult as it was, but he simply could not get the combination right the first, or second, or even third time. After whispering several unmentionable words beneath his breath, the lock finally clicked and he pulled the door open. He stepped back, suddenly, when something fell from his locker. He was over-the-top fidgety today. His day hadn't exactly gotten off to a good start and he kept expecting more awful things to happen to him as the day went on.

However, when Kurt looked down at the now-spotless tiles under his feet, he saw that what had fallen from his locker had been a sheet of white paper. His stomach twisted slightly, as thoughts of what this page could be ran through his mind, his brain imagining that it could only be something negative.

Finally, he bent to pick up the sheet of paper, aware of the students now filing into the hall, talking and laughing and pushing their way towards their own lockers. He took comfort in the large crowds because he could hide amongst them. He turned his attention back to the page and flipped it over and was surprised to find that it was his schedule. Or at least a copy of it, since he was sure his original one would not be legible any more and was probably sitting in some recycling bin at that very moment.

He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering who on earth would take the time to slip a clean schedule into his locker. Perhaps it had been a teacher who had seen the soiled one and felt it was his or her duty to replace it. That was the only sane explanation he could come up with. It wasn't as if anyone had gone out of their way to behave even remotely friendly towards him all day. People had barely noticed him and the ones who did, either chuckled with their friends, obviously cracking some kind of joke, or stared at him like he had six heads and was wearing a dusty pink ballgown. Nothing new, he supposed, but that didn't take away from the fact that it still hurt every time it happened.

Kurt looked down at the classes printed on the page; English was next. At least he had a schedule now, instead of having to worry about where he had to go next. He shrugged, pressed his locker shut and turned around. He lowered his head and hurried off to find his next class.

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><p>Blaine stood by his own locker and watched as the new boy jumped backwards slightly, when the schedule he had placed there fell out and landed by his feet. His hair was dry now, but not as carefully styled as it had been that morning. It looked sort of stiff and sticky and his clothes were terribly stained.<p>

No one approached the boy, or even glanced in his direction as he bent to pick up the schedule from the ground. Blaine watched as his cyan eyes widened upon realising what was on the page. It was stupid, but Blaine took pleasure in this sight, in knowing that the boy was so pleasantly surprised because of something he had done. He straightened the smile he hadn't known he'd been sporting into a stiff line and tilted his head, so that he could see the boy over the cheerleader who had chosen to stand right in his line of sight.

The boy, Kurt, he reminded himself, was closing his locker now and pulling the strap of his white bag up onto his broad shoulder. He was walking away now, his head bowed, pushing gently through the crowds, in an endeavour to get to class. Blaine wondered how he had managed to make it through the first half of the day without a class schedule, then shoved the thought into the back of his head, reminding himself that he did not care. Blaine kept his eyes on the boy's sandy brown hair until it disappeared down the hallway and out of sight.

He had to do something. He didn't know what, exactly, just that he had to do something and fast. He turned back to his open locker and pulled the boy—Kurt's— schedule from his pocket, carefully and placed it inside his locker. He glanced around, quickly, before pulling his own schedule out of the back pocket of his jeans. He laid them side by side and studied them.

_They both had English next._

Blaine shoved both schedules into his open back pack, zipped it up, then slammed his locker shut, before rushing away to the boy's bathroom, where he would remain until everyone else was safely in class.

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><p>"Mr Anderson, how nice of you to join us."<p>

Kurt's head shot up from his book when his teacher, Mrs Flynn spoke out loud. She had assigned them some reading, from 'Jane Eyre' and the class had been relatively silent until she had spoken.

Kurt saw him then, the boy who had been introduced to him as Blaine Anderson, by the guy who had what appeared to be some species of roadkill on his head. Kurt didn't think he was going to forget that name anytime soon and he was sure that everytime it was mentioned, he would experience some form of painful flashback to the boy's hand twisting until his cup was tipped over Kurt's head, the purple ice hitting him like shards of broken glass.

"Sorry, Mrs Flynn," the dark haired boy said, politely. "I wasn't feeling very well."

"Take a seat," Mrs Flynn simply instructed, turning back to her own book.

Kurt glanced around quickly and was mortifed when he realised the only empty seat in the entire classroom was the one next to him, in the very back right hand corner. He quickly bowed his head, pretending to be terribly invested in the happenings between the covers of his book, aware that this Blaine Anderson was now walking towards him. His heart was beating irrationally and violently against his chest.

Blaine pulled out the seat, slowly, trying to be quiet about the whole affair. He sat down eventually and unzipped his bag, also slowly, the sound of the zipper filling the entire room. He pulled his own book out and opened it, as he sat back in the chair, a small smile on his face. Kurt kept his eyes locked on his book, but was finding it difficult to process the words with the guy who had covered him in slushie just hours before sitting so close by. Kurt spent the next ten minutes concentrating on ignoring the presence of Blaine Anderson, who actually seemed to be pretty ensconsed in the book. Kurt flipped the pages of his own book every so often for good measure.

After ten minutes, Mrs Flynn cleared her throat.

"For this class, you will have a paper due on this book," she held up her own copy of 'Jane Eyre'. "You will be working in pairs," she went on. "With the person sitting next to you."

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><p><strong>Let me know what you thought? :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Again, I don't own a thing. Thank you to everyone who reviewed/read this! It means a lot! Just a reminder that anything that has been changed from canon is done deliberately so that it fit better with the story. Let me know what you think! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2:<strong>

"_For the entire school year?_" Blaine exploded, gaining pitiful glances from some of the football players across the room.

He couldn't decide if he was pleased about the entire situation, or really, really nervous. Maybe both, he thought. He'd done it purposely, obviously. He couldn't pin point why, exactly, but he'd known what he'd been doing when he had hid out in that cubicle for twelve minutes.

Mrs Flynn had been Blaine's English teacher for the past two years and every year, she did the exact same thing: Paired the class up for projects with the person next to them and they remained partnered with that person until the school year ended. Blaine had known that there was little chance that anyone would have sat next to Kurt. He was the new kid and he was.. well. He was the way he was. It was like that at McKinley. If you got caught with the target of the footballers' fists, that automatically made you a joined force, thus having yourself placed under the target list also.

So, Blaine had come to class late, aware that there would be only one seat vacant and when he arrived at class, he was both joyful and anxious when he saw that things had gone as planned. Now he had to play the injured party, had to complain that he had to work with this kid, had to pretend it was the biggest travesty ever known to man, knowing that Mrs Flynn would not be moved.

"Yes, for the entire school year, Mr Anderson," Mrs Flynn said, tiredly. "As you are well aware."

Blaine could feel the kid shifting next to him, could sense how his body had gone rigid and how he was fidgeting with the corners of the pages on his book. He felt a pang of guilt as he spoke to his teacher.

"But he's—he's not really—I mean, he's sort of," Blaine paused, his head hurting a little. "We're not really compatible, are we?"

A few kids snickered at that and Blaine asked the Gods why he'd chosen that word out of all the words he could have used. Mrs Flynn simply shook her head.

"I'm not asking you to marry him, Blaine, just to work with him on some projects."

People were laughing now and Blaine felt the heat creeping up the back of his neck as he swung his head around to meet the eyes of the people who had laughed at him. He shot them an accusing glare and they bowed their heads and ignored his daggered looks.

"Alright, get talking to your partners, everyone and decide how you are going to complete this assignment," Mrs Flynn clapped her hands twice, before sitting down, the class now buzzing with voices, people discussing methods with their partners.

Blaine looked sideways at Kurt, who was avoiding his eyes at all costs. He had the urge to apologise to him, but wouldn't because that went against everything Blaine Anderson was about. Instead, he took a silent breath and turned to his new partner with a smile.

"Blaine Anderson," he beamed, confidently, extending a hand for the boy to take.

Kurt turned his head slowly, his eyes going straight to Blaine's outstretched hand. He eyed it for a few moments, then raised his eyes to meet Blaine's, his blue gaze locking with Blaine's golden syrup one. Finally, he lifted a slender hand and slipped it into Blaine's.

Blaine felt his skin tingling wildly the moment Kurt's hand touched his. His skin was baby soft, his hand warm and slow in movement, unsure, as he shook Blaine's hand weakly.

"Kurt Hummel," he told him, quietly.

"New?" Blaine asked, feigning ignorance.

Kurt's face twisted then, his expression clearly questioning Blaine's previous statement.

"Are you serious?" he asked, his voice breaking a little. "You don't remember the 'McKinley High Welcome' you gave me this morning? The one where you emptied a cup of coloured ice over my head?"

Blaine gaped at Kurt for a moment, his stomach twisting in knots. He was actually feeling bad about it. He wished he wasn't, wished he could laugh in the kid's face and tell him that he would play by his rules and nobody would get hurt, but he couldn't. He didn't want to hurt him, didn't want him to think he was a monster, but at the same time, this was exactly what he wanted, because everyone had to perceive Blaine in the same light, or his reputation at McKinley would be destroyed. He wasn't ready for that, he never would be, but he wasn't sure it would be an easy fete to treat this boy like a piece of garbage on a sidewalk.

"Oh, right, that," he muttered, collecting himself. "Didn't anyone tell you you're not supposed to talk back to me?"  
>Kurt rolled his cerulean eyes and Blaine saw a flicker in them and he knew what that meant; That not one person had spoken to Kurt all day, at least none that weren't threatening him with cups of ice. He didn't know what to say, then, because the knots in his stomach had tightened and he felt the urge to reach across and pat Kurt on the shoulder, tell him that it wasn't all bad here, that he would have the guys lay off him, but he knew that this would never be a possibility. If he did that, popular as he was, he would be outcast. There were more of them than there was him and he could not risk expulsion, his entire future depended on his senior year and he wasn't about to let some kid with pretty eyes get in the way.<p>

"Look," Kurt said finally, eyes on his book. "Do you want me to just do this paper and we can just say we both did it? Then we won't have to—"

"No," Blaine interjected and Kurt turned to look at him, eyes filled with curiosity. He'd spoken too quickly, he knew that, but he wasn't about to let the entire plan go to waste, especially when it had been going so well. He still wasn't sure what he hoped to achieve at the end of all this, but part of him told him to keep going, see why it was so important for him to do this, see why he couldn't seem to rid the idea from his mind. "Hummel, I'm a straight A student. I don't need anyone to do my work for me. Besides," he picked up his book, mostly because he needed something to preoccupy his now shaking hands. "I kinda like this book."

"You like 'Jane Eyre'," Kurt said, his voice filled with surprise. "Really?"

Blaine smiled, then.

"Yes, why does that come as such a shock to you?"

Kurt shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, small tufts of his brown hair slipping over the tips of his pale ears.

"You don't seem like the type," was all he said.

"I'm full of surprises," Blaine informed him, with a smirk and if he didn't know better, he would have said he'd been flirting with him, but that couldn't be, because Blaine had Quinn and Blaine didn't even like guys and in the extremely far out event that he did, he was pretty sure that his choice in men would have stretched far beyond Kurt Hummel.

Kurt's cheeks were flushing now, his eyes locked on the graffitied table in front of him. Blaine felt a little uncomfortable, because he hadn't meant to say that and he most definitely hadn't meant it to come out the way it had. He decided to avert attention from the statement.

"So, listen," he began. "We're going to do this properly. We're going to get an A on this thing, so," he reached across and grabbed the pen that was sitting on the desk in front of Kurt. He tugged Kurt's copy of 'Jane Eyre' out of his grasp, leaving him open-mouthed. He went to protest but stopped still when he saw Blaine scribbling on the inside cover of the book. "Here's my number, so we can make some sort of arrangement. You'd better give me yours, just in case you decide not to call me and do this thing by yourself, thus inhibiting my learning experience and spurning my ability to work as a team," he shoved his book forward and held out the pen. Kurt took it, cautiously, then opened Blaine's book and scrawled his phone number inside. Blaine watched him as he wrote. He looked a little dazed, disbelief on his face, his eyes blinking a few too many times, his long, dark lashes fluttering down into the hollows beneath his eyes.

When they had exchanged numbers, Blaine looked at Kurt and smiled, properly this time, no force, no smirk, no feigned confidence, just a Blaine smile.

"Cool," he said, simply.

Kurt nodded, just nodded, not speaking a word. Blaine was running out of things to say to him. Luckily, the bell rang soon after, signalling the end of class, so he didn't have to think of a conversation starter. He stood up and looked down at Kurt, who returned his gaze, still looking confused.

"I'll call you about our first meeting and we can get started as soon as possible," Blaine said.

Kurt nodded again and began packing his things away.

Blaine had been far too nice to him and if the guys heard it back, somehow, he would be teased to no end. He zipped his bag up, mind reeling, in an endeavour to come up with a way to redeem himself. Kurt stood up then and began to turn away.

"Oh, and Kurt?" Blaine said, stopping him in his tracks.

"Yeah?" Kurt turned his head back to Blaine.

Blaine forced himself to meet Kurt's gaze. He held it there as he spoke, hoping it would help endorse the threatening statement he was about to give.

"If we don't get a perfect A on this, I'll make sure you don't get a minute of peace at this place," Blaine said, almost reluctantly. "You got that?"

Kurt exhaled a little, his chest falling, eyes darting sideways. Blaine ignored the pressing need to take it all back, because that would be beyond ridiculous.

"Fine, whatever," he murmured, before turning away and walking outside.

Blaine smiled because he'd fixed it, but that stupid nagging feeling was still there and he just couldn't figure out why.

* * *

><p>"How's school?" Burt Hummel asked his son at the dinner table, as he reached across for the bottle of ketchup.<br>Kurt watched, knife and fork in hand, as his dad struggled to open the ketchup bottle, muttering obscenities at it, under his breath. Eventually, he laid down his cutlery and leaned across and took the bottle from his father.

"Here," he said, softly. "Let me do it."

He pulled the lid open with a loud pop and handed the bottle back to his father, who muttered a small 'thank you', before turning the bottle upside down and squeezing a large blob of ketchup onto his plate, next to the peas.  
>"Well?" Burt said, pushing his fork into the breast of chicken on his plate. "How's school?" he asked again.<br>Kurt's dad had been in hospital a couple of months previously. He'd almost died from a heart attack, brought on by an arrhythmia and Kurt didn't like to worry him too much. He had already gotten far too stressed out about what had gone down back at his old school, with the bullying and the harassment and Kurt was sure the stress did him no good and had probably played a part in the heart attack coming about. He wasn't ready for a repeat, he wanted his dad healthy. Burt had been so enthusiastic when he had told Kurt about the garage that was to let over in Lima and that he had already put down a deposit to rent it out and Kurt couldn't bear to crush him like that, not when it seemed like things were going so well for him. So, Kurt did what he did best when it came to his emotional state; He lied.

"It's great, dad," he said, smiling for affect.

"It is?" Burt grinned, mouth full.

Kurt grimaced at the food protruding from his father's lips, then nodded, quickly.

"Yes," he confirmed. "The kids are really nice here."

Kurt hadn't ever had friends, at least not since kindergarten. He'd played with some of the kids back then, back when no one was any different, when kids were just kids and stereotypes and labels had not yet been applied. Sometimes Kurt missed those days. Sometimes he longed for friendship. He wasn't even asking for a bunch of friends, but maybe just one he could talk to sometimes, one he could laugh with, one who would be there. Most of the time, he told himself that he was better off as he was; Alone. He liked to be alone with his thoughts, figured he didn't need anyone, but on days when he sat alone with nothing to do, or when he saw his dad watching him with pitying eyes, he wished he had a friend.

So when Kurt said that, about the kids being nice, it seemed to convince Burt, because he looked genuinely relieved as he reached across and laid a warm hand over his son's. He raised his eyes to meet his Kurt's, a smile on his face.

"I wanted to say that I'm proud of you, Kurt," Burt told his son. "I know it's been tough and I know it's not easy, startin' a new school and having to make new friends, but.." he paused, searching for words. Burt wasn't really the heart-to-heart-talks type of guy. "Well—I'm just really proud of you, is all and your mom would be, too."  
>Kurt smiled at his father, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes and he couldn't tell if he wanted to cry because his dad had said he was proud of him, or because he'd been lying and life really wasn't getting any better and it didn't look as if it was going to any time soon.<p>

"Thank you, dad," he said, finally and Burt responded with a small shrug of his broad shoulders, before shoving more food in his mouth.

After dinner, Burt went back to the garage to finish up a few things and Kurt took the plates to the sink and started washing. Half way through, his cell phone sounded from the coffee table in the living room. Kurt's heart was racing as he dried his hands, wondering who could be calling him and why. What if it had to do with his dad? What if he'd fallen sick again? What if—

"Hello?" Kurt said, breathlessly, once he'd pressed the phone to his ear.

The voice on the other end was the last person he had been expecting to hear.

"Kurt?" the voice said. "It's me, Blaine."

* * *

><p>"You think I can lift him? Dude, <em>have you seen me?<em>" Blaine said, referring to his height. Blaine was what many would call short. His mom had called him 'fun sized' in the past. He preferred short.

Puckerman and Dave Karofsky had Kurt pushed up against a brick wall around the side of the school where the trash cans were. Blaine was standing back against one of the large industrial dumpsters, the pungent scent of rotten food filling his nostrils, but he was pretty sure that this wasn't the reason he was feeling so sick.

"You don't say much, do you?" Puck said, pushing Kurt harder against the wall.

Blaine tried to avoid looking at his face, because it made him feel uncomfortable, but Kurt emitted a low whining sound when Puck had pushed him, causing Blaine to glance across. Kurt's eyes were half closed, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His eyebrows were furrowing in the centre and Blaine could see the distress in his eyes, almost as if he was pleading that he put an end to this.

"We don't even know his name," Karofsky snarled, twisting the arm he had a hold of in his strong hands.  
>Kurt whimpered again and Blaine had to force his eyes down to the ground.<p>

"I said," Karofsky said in an almost-growl. "What's your name?" and he shoved Kurt's arm back into the wall, causing him to make another sound, clearly in pain.

"Kurt," he breathed, his voice catching. "Kurt Hummel."

Puck and Karofsky started to laugh, as they pulled him simultaneously by the arms towards the trash can, too preoccupied with the entire charade to notice Blaine was not laughing as he stepped out of the way. Blaine watched as his friends clutched Kurt by the arms and by the legs and then lifted him and flung him inside the disgusting can. The sound of Kurt groaning and Puck and Karofsky's laughter filled the air and Blaine didn't smile until Puck raised a hand to high-five him.

He wondered as he walked away, if Kurt would show up later on when they were supposed to meet for their first session.

* * *

><p>"You came," were the first words Blaine whispered to Kurt when he walked up to him sitting alone at the back of the public library.<p>

Kurt said nothing simply pulled out the chair on the other side of the desk and sat down, placing his bag on the ground by his feet. He reached down and pulled out his book, a sheet of paper and a pen. He looked up to see Blaine staring at him, fixedly. He stared back at him, because he didn't know what he was supposed to say.  
>Kurt had heard so many things about the great Blaine Anderson and his 'super hot' girlfriend and it was only his third day at school. The girls wanted him, the guys wanted to be him. Basically, Blaine Anderson had it all.<br>He really was incredibly good looking, it was no wonder that he had the most sought after girl at school as his girlfriend. Kurt hadn't really looked at him properly until that moment, because the first time they'd had an encounter, Kurt had been cowering on the floor with his hands over his head. The second time, he'd avoided eye contact and when he had looked at him, he'd held his gaze for only a short time, due to the fact that despite his height, Blaine Anderson was pretty intimidating.

But now, looking at him properly, Kurt could definitely see the appeal. Blaine had eyes like warm honey, dark pupils in the centre, the edges of his irises lined in black. Dark, full lashes stood in a canopy over his eyes and fell down into the hollows beneath every time he blinked. His lashes were exceptionally long and thick for a guy. His sallow skin was unblemished, dark coils escaped his gelled hair and fell down over his forehead and across the tops of his ears. His lips were full and bow-shaped and a peach-orange colour, the inner areas closest to the inside of his mouth a shade darker, sort of a bitter sweet pinky-orange. There was no question about it; Blaine Anderson was beautiful.

"Um," Kurt said, prying his eyes off of Blaine. He looked down at his book and picked it up, nervously. "Do you—I mean, we should get started," he said, ignoring the slight hitch in his voice and the loud pitter-patter of his heart. "What—what did you think? Of the book?"

He cursed himself for behaving so utterly ridiculous, feeling the heat rising up the back of his neck and seeping up into his cheeks.

"I haven't finished it," Blaine shrugged, simply.

Kurt stared at him again.

"You haven't finished it?" he said. "Then why are we here?"

Blaine looked uncomfortable and then shrugged. Kurt sighed quietly and sat back in his seat.

"What's going on?" he asked and Blaine gave him a confused look, dark brows furrowing in the centre. "Is this some kind of set up? Am I going to walk out of here and get tied up and thrown in a river, or something?"

Blaine gaped at Kurt, as if the thought hadn't even crossed his mind and Kurt felt sort of dumb for saying what he'd been thinking out loud, but things like this were forever happening to him and for a moment, he had really believed this was what was going down.

"No," Blaine uttered. "No, not at all."

"Oh," was all Kurt said.

They were silent for a few moments and Kurt could almost taste the awkwardness in the air. Neither of them made eye contact and it was Blaine who spoke first.

"You know, if we're going to be working together for, like, the entire year," he said to the table in front of him. "We should probably get to know each other a little better."

Kurt raised a thin brow, because the same guy who had drowned him in icy corn syrup and stood by and watched him get thrown head first into a dumpster was sitting here asking him to get to know him.

"Look, Blaine," Kurt said, his name sounding strange on his lips. "We don't need to 'get to know each other', we just need to get these stupid assignments done, so that you can get on with your beautiful life and I can get on with my life as a moving target."

Kurt wasn't the type of person who sat down and allowed people to belittle him. He had learned a long time ago that talking back and showing he wasn't afraid never really got you any where, but shoved inside a locker or in ER with a broken arm, which is why he had refrained from defending himself from the footballers. However, now, sitting here with the great Blaine Anderson, who looked so awkward for what had to have been the first time in his life, he felt he could just say it, that he could tell him how things were going to go and that he didn't want to get to know him, that he didn't care about his perfect life or his perfect face or his perfect girlfriend, he just wanted to get this thing finished so that he wouldn't have to spend any more time around him than was absolutely necessary.

"You don't know a thing about me," Blaine told him.

"Yeah," Kurt said, matter-of-factly. "I don't _want_ to know anything about you. I just want to do this and go home."

He was sure Blaine was going to leap across the table and get him in a head lock and God, if he got blood on these jeans he was going to send Blaine Anderson one hell of a dry cleaning bill. But Blaine didn't leap across the table, in fact, he barely moved. He blinked a few times, his dark lashes fluttering, then spoke, in a low voice.

"You said my life was beautiful," he said. "My life is far from beautiful, so don't go around making assumptions about me until you know what you're talking about."

Kurt sighed in frustration. This guy was insufferable.

"Okay, cool, whatever," he said, gathering his things and shoving them down into his bag by his feet. "Look, I'm going to go home, because you are clearly unprepared. Go home, read the book and we'll try again."

"You're an asshole."

"Excuse me?" Kurt said, in an incredulous tone. "You're the one who attacked me with a slushie and threw me in a garbage can and _I'm_ an asshole?"

Blaine's bright eyes studied Kurt, confusion passing through them. Kurt watched as confusion turned to frustration and Blaine leaned back in his chair and folded his muscled arms.

"I didn't throw you in a garbage can," he said.

"Well, you were there when it happened, so you were an accessory."

"Look," Blaine said, with a sigh. "We have to work together for a whole year, we may as well stop snapping at one another."

Kurt saw something, then, when Blaine's body seemed to go limp, his eyes closing, chest rising and then falling. He looked weary, like he hadn't slept for a long time. When he opened his eyes, they found Kurt's and he saw that they were a little red-rimmed and watery. It turned out that when you looked closely enough at Blaine Anderson, he actually wasn't that perfect. He was beautiful, that couldn't be disputed, but there was definitely more to him than met the eye.

"Alright," Kurt said, quietly, because Blaine didn't look as if he had it in him to fight any more. "Okay, getting to know each other. You start."

Blaine looked up, eyes wide with surprise. He didn't say anything for a moment, then coughed a little.  
>"Um," he began. "I don't know what to say." Something seemed to change in him again, then, the defences suddenly back up. "I'm sure you've heard everything there is to know about me."<p>

"Cut the crap, Blaine," Kurt said and Blaine's eyes shot up. It didn't look as if he was used to people, especially people like Kurt, talking down to him and giving him orders. "You either want to do this, or you don't, it's entirely your decision."

Blaine didn't say anything, just nodded, eyes on the table in front of him. Kurt was about to suggest that he go first, but on further thought, he realised he had no idea what he was supposed to say.

"We could ask each other questions? Make it easier?"

Blaine raised his golden brown eyes to Kurt's and nodded again.

"Okay," he shrugged, slightly. "Why did you move here?"

Kurt's eyes flashed with amusement. He hadn't been expecting that to be the first question out of Blaine's mouth.  
>"Really? No 'how old are you?' or 'do you have any siblings?' or 'who's your favourite American Idol contestant of all time?'"<p>

Blaine's sallow cheeks seemed to flush a light pink then and Kurt decided he wouldn't tease him about it any more, because he knew how that felt.

"Bullies," he said.

"Bullies?"

"Yes, bullies, I'm sure you're well acquainted with the term," he rolled his eyes, not going too easy on his oppressor. "It got out of hand and I broke a lot of bones and sported a lot of black eyes and had to throw away a lot of blood-stained clothes, so here I am."

Blaine's eyes filled with pity for a split second, then he seemed to shake it away, not allowing himself to show emotion, but Kurt had caught it.

"Your turn," Blaine muttered, not looking at Kurt.

Kurt thought for a minute, because apparently they weren't asking basic questions.

"Why do you do it?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Bully kids."

Blaine wavered here, like he didn't know, like he honestly had no idea why he did what he did. He looked uneasy and like he wanted to sleep for a long time, but Kurt couldn't take the question back, wouldn't take it back, because this guy had covered him from head to toe in slushie on his first day at his new school and sometimes, payback was a bitch.

"Because they deserve it," Blaine said, but he didn't sound completely convinced.

"No," Kurt responded, gravely. "They don't. None of us are any better than each other, regardless of what you've been lead to believe all your life. Making someone else feel bad doesn't make you better than them, it just makes you a bully and no one wants to be a bully. They do it because they're trying to look tough, because they're insecure, because they're hiding something, they do it for a multitude of reasons."

"Well, if you already know, why did you ask?"

"So, what's your reason?" Kurt enquired, ignoring Blaine's question. He leaned forward to study Blaine, who was avoiding his gaze like the plague.

"This is stupid," Blaine groaned, quietly.

"Really?" Kurt asked. "I don't think it is. I think there's more to you and that's why you do it. Most of the time, you don't even look like you want to do it. I saw you that first day, with the slushie. You almost didn't do it. Then earlier on at the garbage cans, you stayed away and I saw you with that boy in the wheelchair yesterday, too. You didn't push him as hard as the other guys."

Blaine didn't speak, just looked alarmed and as if he'd been called out for committing a serious crime. Kurt didn't drop his gaze, hoping Blaine would look up, because eye contact would probably get him talking. Kurt wasn't sure if he was right about Blaine, but that flicker in his eyes had meant something and Kurt knew about pretences, about pretending like everything was absolutely fine, when your world was falling down around you. It didn't seem as if Blaine Anderson's world was falling down around him, but there was definitely something there and Kurt wanted to know what.

"You know, if you're such a god around McKinley, why do you look like you're on death row every time the other guys look at you to do something horrible to someone else?"

"You think you know everything, Hummel, but you don't," Blaine told him. "Those guys? They're my friends. We are at the top of the food chain, while you're not even at the bottom, you're further down, where the carcasses of those who came before you lay. It's our job to keep things the way they're supposed to be. If we didn't have some order around here, math geeks and glee clubbers would be running around like they owned the place. That's why I'm there."

Kurt almost laughed, but didn't when he realised Blaine wasn't really speaking the whole truth. Maybe part of him did believe it was what he was supposed to do, probably because he had been so used to telling himself that, but he was very much transparent, in that Kurt could see the hesitance in his eyes, the fidgeting of his fingers, the chewing on his lip and he knew that Blaine was lying, maybe even to himself, to make himself look better.

"Sometimes, it's okay to let your guard down, you know," Kurt told him, softly. "If you don't, you'll just be angry all the time."

"What is this?" Blaine asked, smirk back on his face. "'Convert your bully into a cowardly, little faggot like yourself day'?"

Kurt reached down and grabbed his bag, then stood up and Blaine watched him from his chair.

"You know what?" he said. "You can call me all the names in the world, it's nothing I haven't heard before and I'll get over it, they're just words, but you?" he stood up straight, clutching his bag to his side. "You're just going to be mad at the world and you'll never be fully happy. So, calling me a faggot isn't going to help you find your way in life. Maybe you should concentrate on yourself before worrying about what other people are doing."

Blaine didn't say anything, but Kurt saw him flinch a little. He sighed, then, because Blaine didn't look as if he was going to respond any time soon.

"Just—contact me when you're done with the book, so we can get this done and we don't have to communicate until our next assignment and you can go back to pretending to be the popular guy who has it all. In the end, I'm going to get away, make something of myself and if I fail, so be it, at least I'll have tried, but you'll always be here and you'll always be that same broken, miserable, angry guy you are now."

And he turned away and walked out, leaving Blaine alone with his thoughts.

* * *

><p><strong>If you're still reading, please let me know what you think! I'll post the next part tomorrow :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**This chapter is a bit shorter than the others and it isn't _that _eventful, but necessary (or at least I think so lol). The next chapter is longer, I might post it later on, since this one is short. Thank you for the reviews, I wasn't expecting any at all, so it means a lot! There's like a tiny mention of masturbation, but nothing over the top. Also, a reminder that I've changed the characters around a bit, I'm not portraying anyone in a certain way because I dislike them or anything, it just fits better. Again, I don't own Glee or anything to do with it, obviously. The things I would do if I did though...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3:<strong>

It wasn't until Friday night that Blaine decided it was time to call Kurt and arrange a meeting. He had finished the book after he had gone home from the library on Wednesday evening, but he didn't want Kurt to think he had gone straight home and done exactly as he had instructed. So, he waited it out and after dinner, he excused himself from the table. His mother waved a hand, not even looking in his direction. His father had already disappeared out of the room to make a call in his office. The dinner plates would be in exactly the same place in the morning.

Blaine closed his bedroom door and collapsed onto the bed, making a mental note to go back downstairs later and load the plates into the dishwasher. He dialled Kurt's number, then pressed his phone to his ear, the dial tone starting up and waited for a long time, listening to the even rings the phone was making. Blaine had almost hung up, deciding Kurt was either busy, or simply didn't want to talk to him. He guessed he couldn't blame him, really. Blaine and the guys had bullied him every day this week. Not a day had passed that he didn't get a cup or two of slushie emptied over his perfectly coiffed head. Blaine had even locked him in the janitor's closet on Thursday morning. Apparently, he'd been left there until lunch time.

"Hello?" Kurt said, finally answering his phone. Blaine took comfort in the sound of his voice. He didn't know why, didn't even want to know why, because it freaked him out. He didn't want to think about it.

"I finished the book."

"Blaine," Kurt said and his voice gave away no emotion. Blaine couldn't tell if he was happy to hear from him or not. He reminded himself that he didn't care either way, then went on talking.

"Yeah," he said. "So, can we meet up tomorrow, or something?"

"Tomorrow," Kurt said, thoughtfully.

Blaine wondered what else Kurt might have planned for tomorrow. Maybe he was visiting a relative. Or getting some super early Christmas shopping done. Or seeing his boyfriend.

Blaine felt the empty feeling returning to the pit of his stomach. He hadn't experienced it since he had gotten home from school that day and he'd thought it was finally gone, but apparently not. He was going to have to see a doctor soon, fearful that he might be developing an ulcer, because there was no other explanation.

"Yeah, tomorrow's fine," Kurt said finally on the other end. "Where?"

Blaine felt a little flustered. He was feeling like that a lot lately. Earlier that day, Quinn had been telling him some 'super important gossip' and he'd blanked on her completely. She was, needless to say, less than amused.

"Uh, wherever," he replied, weakly.

"Wherever," Kurt repeated. "We could do it on a bridge? Or maybe we could just sit ourselves on the side of some empty road? Oh, I know! On our way in here, I saw a park with this cute, little sandbox in the centre. Do you think if we asked nicely, the kids would let us borrow it for, like, an hour or so?"

"Yes, God, Hummel, you're _hilarious_," Blaine rolled his eyes.

"I _am_ hilarious, actually, but that time I was just being smart, something you obviously wouldn't know anything about," Kurt said, in that snooty tone. "You did say wherever, though, so I assumed the location was open for any suggestions and I like to be creative."

Blaine simply groaned because Kurt was a frustrating son of a bitch sometimes. He wondered why he had ever felt that tiny twinge of pity for him that first day of school.

"Library, then," Kurt stated.

"No."

"No?"

"No," Blaine said, again, feeling himself flushing. Luckily, no one could see him at that moment.

"Why not?"

He had to ask that, didn't he?

"I sort of got—erm, barred."

"_You got barred from the public library?_"

Blaine nodded, then realised Kurt couldn't see him, so he mumbled an affirmative.

"How does one get barred from the public library?"

Blaine felt stupid. He knew he wasn't stupid, just that some pretty stupid things happened to him sometimes, particularly in the last week, he noticed. The truth was that after Kurt left him in the library on Wednesday, he'd felt sick to his stomach, for whatever reason. He had no idea, why, he just knew that he needed to get to a bathroom pronto. Except he didn't make it to a bathroom. He'd thrown up right there, in the back corner of the library and the librarian had barred him. It was one of the single most embarrassing things to ever happen to him.

He told Kurt, who simply collapsed into fits of laughter. Blaine scowled, hoping Kurt could sense his displeasure.

"Oh my God," Kurt said, laughter depleting. "You're _serious_, aren't you?"

"Of course, I'm serious."

"Oh, wow," Kurt chuckled a little. "What happened? What did you eat?"

It occurred to Blaine then that he was having a phone conversation with Kurt Hummel, like it was the most natural thing in the world, which it most definitely was not.

"I don't know," he shrugged, because he didn't know. He had no idea what had happened. One minute, he was relatively normal, then Kurt had begun talking about the future and he got that churning feeling in the pit of his stomach and then Kurt was gone and he'd vomited. Maybe he really was getting an ulcer.

"Can they even legally bar you from the public library for bodily malfunctions?"

Blaine grimaced when Kurt said the words 'bodily malfunctions'. It made him feel a little sick again.

"Evidently," he deadpanned.

"Well, meet me there tomorrow anyway."

"What? What the hell for?" Blaine asked, in an incredulous tone. Had Kurt not heard him the first time, or did he just want to hear him say it again for kicks?

"Tell you what," Kurt said, patiently. "I'll even pick you up, okay?"

Blaine groaned as he sat up. He was genuinely confused. It was as if Kurt had forgotten everything he had just told him.

"About.. five-ish?"

"Are you trying to ask me out, Hummel?" Blaine asked and immediately regretted it.

"Of course not," Kurt said, brightly. "I'm too good for you."

Blaine snorted at that. Kurt was a funny guy if he really believed that. Either funny or really, really dense.

"So, tomorrow at five," Kurt finalised.

"You don't even know where I live—"

"I'll ask around."  
>"Even though I could just tell you?"<p>

Kurt chuckled then.

"But then I wouldn't get to have fun finding out all the scandalous stories about you!"

"Right," Blaine muttered, rolling his eyes yet again. "Do you really think you're too good for me?" he asked, because he honestly wanted to know if Kurt was being humorous, or was just stark raving bonkers.

"Absolutely," Kurt confirmed. "You wear far too much hair gel, your eyebrows look like burnt toast cut into those little triangular segments and your best friend has a Mohawk. Further speculation is not necessary."

Blaine said nothing, because the guy sort of had a point, at least about Puckerman.

"Anyway, seeing as how I'm too good for you, I shouldn't be wasting valuable time talking to you when I could be conversing with someone in my own league," Kurt said and Blaine could _hear_ the smile in his voice. "So, I'll see you tomorrow."  
>Kurt hung up without another word. Blaine sighed and threw his phone down, then went downstairs to do the dishes.<p>

* * *

><p>Blaine was dozing on his bed. His mind had been filled with so many thoughts and worries and things he wished he didn't have to deal with. This was his senior year, he was supposed to enjoy it. Instead, he was experiencing nothing but pressure and stress. His grades needed to stay up, he needed to continue excelling on the football team and he had to deal with his parent's strained relationship, his mother's borderline depression and his father's anger issues. He just wished everything would go away for a while.<p>

And now he was feeling sick practically all the time. His stomach was playing up and there was something badly wrong, he knew that, but he couldn't bring himself to go to a doctor to have it confirmed. He couldn't eat, but felt hungry all the time. He had made so many self-diagnosis' that he was absolutely sure he was going to die.

Maybe he was just tired, though, tired of everything. He didn't want to have to work to keep up his reputation, didn't want to have to play the perfect son, didn't want to do anything except live life. And now this Hummel kid was always around and he kind of liked that in some twisted part of his mind, but he also wished he had never met him, because Kurt made him want to stop being the tough guy, made him want to just sit back and rest. He needed to do that, to rest and just stop for a while, but he couldn't and something about Kurt caused Blaine to feel bad every time he did something to him.

Maybe it wasn't Kurt, maybe it was just everything coming to a head. Maybe his body had just given in because it was weary. He drifted into slumber thinking about it and just as he fell into the clutches of sleep, a loud ringing sound clamoured in his ears. Blaine jumped, his heart hammering against his chest, that falling feeling overtaking him. He sat up and blinked, then reached for his phone on his bed side table.

"Hello?"

He wondered if it might be Kurt. Kurt had been the last person he'd spoken to.

"Hey, baby."

"Quinn," he said, lying back, pushing away the feeling of disappointment rising in his chest. There was no reason for disappointment, not when Quinn Fabray was calling him 'baby'.

"What are you doing?" she enquired in that raspy voice. Blaine thought she feigned that raspiness in an attempt to sound sexy. _And she does_, he reminded himself.

"Just lying here."

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," she said, her voice filled with faux sadness. Blaine could almost hear her pouting.

"We saw each other at school today," Blaine said, stretching a bit.

"I know," Quinn said. "But I haven't _seen you_ in forever."

Blaine rolled his eyes instinctively, knowing exactly what Quinn meant. She always wanted to 'see him' and if Blaine was honest, sex with Quinn sort of felt like a bit of a chore. Maybe it was because he was so tired all the time.

"I was thinking," she said, almost purring. "My parents will be out all day tomorrow. Wanna come over?"

"I can't," he said. "I've got to work on an English paper."

Blaine felt Quinn's mood darkening, even over the phone.

"_You're blowing me off for an English paper?_"

Blaine sighed and closed his eyes, wishing she didn't have to be so difficult all the time.

"I'm meeting with my English partner," he explained with as much patience as he could muster. He wanted to hang up so badly and just sleep. "Tomorrow's the only day he's free," he lied.

It was Quinn's turn to sigh then. She seemed to have calmed down, thank God.

"Alright," she said, sadly, then perked up a bit. "You know what you should do?"

"What?" Blaine asked, yawning. He really wasn't getting enough sleep.

"Touch yourself."

His eyes shot open and he choked a little bit.

"_Excuse me?_"

Quinn's voice got louder, then and way more intense, her voice lower and raspier, words coming slower than before.

"_Touch yourself_," she repeated and Blaine resisted the urge to hang up immediately. "Come on, we haven't been together in so long. Let me make you feel good."  
>It was true, she and Blaine hadn't been together like that since June. Quinn and her family had gone on vacation to the Bahamas for the whole of July and August. He probably should do it, to keep her happy.<p>

"Fine," he exhaled and sat up a little. "Whatever you want."

"Good!" Quinn said, chuckling a bit. "Are you touching yourself?"

Blaine rolled his eyes and unbuckled his belt. He pushed the zipper away and slid his hand past the waist band of his underwear. He wrapped his hand around his unaroused member.

"Yes," he replied, simply, pushing away the urge to yawn, eyes watering a bit.

He heard Quinn shifting a bit then settling.

"Pretend it's me there with you, okay?" she breathed and Blaine began to move his hand back and forth, his movements slow, because he wasn't in the mood right now. He was never in the mood any more.

"Pretend it's my hand, Blaine," she purred. "Pretend I'm right there with you, jerking you off."

He tried, he really, really tried, but he couldn't do it. His touch was doing nothing, Quinn's voice was doing nothing, _nothing was happening_. He sighed a bit.

"Does that feel good, babe?" Quinn asked, voice still low and rugged. "Are you close yet?"

_Not by a long shot,_ he thought, but he couldn't tell Quinn that. He simply grunted in reply and pulled his hand out of his pants. He used his free hand to zip his jeans back up, then he just lay there with his eyes closed, listening to Quinn trying to seduce him over the phone.

"Blaine," Quinn said, after a while, voice louder now. "You're not making much noise."

He opened his eyes and thought hard for a second.

"My parents are home," he made his excuse.

"Oh," Quinn said and Blaine felt relieved that she wasn't going to start bugging him about why he was being quiet. She seemed to get a little excited, then. "That makes it sort of hot, don't you think? That you need to stay quiet?"

"Uh," Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. "Yeah, sure."

Quinn giggled a bit and Blaine felt his eyes rolling, as they so often did when he talked to her. In reality, they were only together because they were expected to be together. Most of the time, Blaine felt like screaming around her, because she was always telling him what to do and saying things that he didn't understand. But Quinn was the girl he had to be with, so he had no choice but to go along with what she wanted. Besides, he was too tired to fight any more.

"Are you almost there?" she asked. "Blaine, pretend that I'm right above you, my hands—"

"Actually, Quinn, my dad's coming, I'm gonna have to go," Blaine said, feigning disappointment. He knew that this was the only way she'd hang up without questioning him.

"Oh, alright," she said.

"I'll see you soon," Blaine said.

"Okay, baby," Quinn went on. "I love you."

Blaine hung up before replying. He flung the phone off to the side and lay back down, closing his eyes. All he needed was to sleep, because when you slept, everything went away, just for a little while.

* * *

><p>"I've never seen you out of your letterman jacket before," was the first thing Kurt said when he saw Blaine at 5.16 p.m. the following day.<p>

"You're late," Blaine responded.

He climbed into the car in a dark jacket, white t-shirt and black jeans. He was also wearing far less hair gel. He looked better like this, Kurt thought. He watched as Blaine clicked his seat belt closed, then started to drive.

"I said you're late," Blaine repeated, shifting his body slightly to look at Kurt.

Kurt smiled a little. Blaine was sort of—_tame_ sometimes. He was never like this at school. At school, he couldn't go five minutes without threatening someone. Now he was sort of.. approachable, Kurt guessed, almost manageable.

"I was busy," Kurt provided, as he deviated a corner.

Blaine looked uneasy as he twisted back around to look out the window. Kurt couldn't help wondering as they drove in silence what it was that he was hiding, if anything. Maybe he was just strange and had no secrets. Except everyone had secrets. Kurt knew that better than anyone.

Blaine's personality seemed to change like lightning. One minute he looked intimidating and angry, the next he looked as if he had the world's worries on his shoulders, as he stared off into nothingness. It was as if he needed to remind himself to be someone else, to be that strong, popular, cruel guy he had built himself up to be, when actually he was just human, just like everyone else; Trying to survive the many obstacles life seemed to throw his way and maybe this was the only way he knew how to do that. Kurt was caught between hating him for everything he had done to him and pitying him, because it was fairly evident that he was unhappy.

They rode in silence and it was only when Kurt parked the car in the library parking lot that Blaine spoke.

"What part of 'I can't be here' did you not understand?"

"The 'can't' part," Kurt said, opening his door. "Come on."

Kurt pushed the library door open and walked inside. Blaine followed, reluctantly, it seemed, endless threats spilling out of his mouth. Kurt simply smiled and ignored his incessant arguing and walked right up to the main desk. The same lady from the last day sat there. She was a small woman, short and stumpy, a grizzled nest of hair surrounding her round face. A small pair of gold-wire spectacles sat on her pointed nose. She looked up at Kurt and then her green eyes went to Blaine. Her eyes flashed and she stood up.

"You can't be here," she said.

Blaine sighed and spun around to head for the door, but Kurt reached around and pulled him back by the sleeve. Blaine groaned and came back to stand an inch or two behind Kurt.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Kurt spoke politely and clearly. "I would like to enquire as to where the rule about vomiting in the library not being allowed is stated."

The librarian scowled at him, but didn't speak.

"It's just that, my friend here," he gestured back at Blaine, who looked more than a little uncomfortable. "Has been ill for the past few days. We have an assignment due soon and since he has been absent from school, we really need to get this done rather speedily. I'm not sure I've heard of this rule where you can't be spontaneously sick. It's not as if he had any control over it, otherwise, I'm sure he would have headed outside."

Kurt held the librarian's gaze. He could feel Blaine gaping at him and he wanted to kick him and tell him to stop looking so dumbstruck and play along. The librarian stared at Kurt for a couple of heart beats, then sighed.

"Alright, go ahead," she said, sitting back down. "But he does it again and he's cleaning it up."

"Thank you," Kurt said and turned around. He pushed Blaine by the shoulders towards an empty table. Blaine shrugged him off. They sat down and took out their books, then.

"Not so goody two shoes, are we?" Blaine asked, studying Kurt.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, pulling a pen from his bag.

"I mean you just lied to a figure of authority."  
>"Ooh, authority, that's a big word, Anderson," Kurt smirked and Blaine shot him one of his trademark death glares.<p>

"I'm going to strangle you or something some day, Hummel," Blaine said, sounding exasperated. "You're so God damned _frustrating_."

Kurt smiled, because he wasn't afraid of Blaine, not any more. He wasn't sure when he had made the transition from being absolutely terrified of what he was going to do to him, to feeling sorry for him and kind of wanting him to find some form of happiness in his seemingly miserable life.

"You wouldn't want to do that, Blaine," Kurt shook his head. "You've been so dreadfully sick, we wouldn't want a relapse."

Blaine's mouth hung open for a split second, then his mouth developed into a smile and then he was laughing. Kurt smiled, then, because it was sort of nice to see a good looking boy laugh and it was even better to know you had been the one to make him laugh, even though he didn't look at Blaine in _that way._

The librarian looked over and shushed them, which only caused them to laugh even harder and that was the first time Blaine Anderson had laughed in the presence of Kurt Hummel.

* * *

><p><strong>So, I might post more later, because this was short and not hugely eventful. Let me know what you think anyway, reviews keep me motivated!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry, I meant to post this last night, but my internet kept disconnecting! Again, I own nothing, obviously. The song Kurt sings is Another Suitcase in Another Hall, from Evita (which I definitely do not own). A bit of homophobic language in here and then after this things are going to happen, so don't give up on me yet!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4:<strong>

The assignment was due the following month. Time seemed to sweep swiftly by and Kurt and Blaine were a lot more at ease with one another. They met twice a week at the library and Blaine didn't seem to threaten Kurt as much as he had done in the first couple of weeks. He still treated him like crap at school and sometimes out of school, but it was progress.

Or maybe not, since Blaine didn't really want to be nice to him. At the same time, however, he did and it was senseless and stupid, but it was also a fact. He denied it every day, but they had developed some form of indirect friendship. Kurt was sort of nice to him sometimes, even though he treated him like garbage. Most of the time he looked at him like he was better than him and Blaine wasn't used to that. There was something about Kurt that both intrigued and frustrated Blaine simultaneously. He still couldn't figure out why he was so intrigued by him, but he was.

"I think we're done," Kurt said, scanning his blue eyes across the essay for the umpteenth time. "And we're a week early," he smiled, pleased with the work they had done.

Blaine smiled, then frowned when he realised their weekly meetings were going to come to a stop for a little while, until the next assignment was given out. He guessed he sort of liked spending time with Kurt. He would never tell anyone that, but Kurt was kind of funny and he didn't feel as if he had to play tough guy as much around him. Sure, he had to send a few insults his way and put him down in order to keep the bully/victim policy in tact, but Kurt didn't look at him like he expected anything of him. Blaine friends, Puck and Karofsky and the others, they looked to him to instigate almost everything, they looked to him for answers, looked to him when they needed a leader. Blaine was sort of tired of that.

"So, um," Blaine stammered a little bit. "Since this assignment was on cultural context, I'm betting the next one is on theme. We could get started early?" he offered, hopefully, much to his own chagrin.

Kurt laid the essay down and raised his cyan eyes to meet Blaine's. Blaine was sort of distracted by what Kurt was wearing. He always dressed so elaborately. His sweater was—Blaine wasn't even sure what it was. It was all colours and shapes and must have been hell to get into. He wore skin tight jeans and black combat boots. Blaine wondered how Kurt managed to walk in those jeans. He was forever wearing them.

"Blaine, we have lots of time to start the next one," Kurt reasoned.

Blaine sighed and sat back, regretting it the moment he did it. Why did he want to spend time with Kurt anyway? It was ridiculous. He had friends. He didn't need Kurt.

"So, there's this party on Sunday," Blaine found himself saying. It was too late to take it back now. "I know you're sort of—not making any, you know, friends around here."

It was true. Blaine sometimes saw Kurt sitting across the canteen by himself, eating carrot sticks, head bowed and avoiding eye contact with anyone. Sometimes he felt like standing up from his place at the 'cool table' and walking across to sit with him. Most of the time, Kurt's conversation was far more interesting than anything his friends had to say.

"I was thinking you could come—go," Blaine went on. "If you wanted."

Kurt's eyes were wide, his face a mask of confusion. Blaine felt himself flushing madly. Why did he have to go and say something like that?

"I don't do parties," Kurt shook his head.

"Ever?"

"Never."

Blaine couldn't remember a time when there had been a party he hadn't gone to.

"Make an exception," Blaine shrugged.

"Why?"

Good question. Blaine couldn't have told him why, because he didn't know the answer. He regained his composure then rattled off an excuse.

"Because I'm tired of you moping around the school by yourself," he told him. "It's bad enough that you're there in the first place, but you go around with your head down like it's the end of the world. At least if you had some other losers to hang around with, I wouldn't have to see your ridiculous frown every time I turn a corner."

Kurt's expression didn't change much. He shook his head a bit.

"I'm not even invited."

"I'm inviting you right now," Blaine shrugged.

"It's not your party."

"It's as good as. If I invite someone, they're invited, simple as that. It's imy/i school, Hummel and if I want to invite someone to a party, then I'll invite them."

"Must be great to be you," Kurt rolled his eyes. "I can't tell if I'm repulsed or touched at the offer, but I'm not going to go."

Kurt Hummel was the most frustrating human being on the planet.

"Why?" Blaine groaned, quietly.

"I have no reason," Kurt retorted. "Plus, I won't know anyone."

"You know me."

"Yes, Blaine, I know you, but in public, you only ever seem to empty iced drinks over my head, or lock me in flipped over porta-potties, so that's not really a comforting factor."

He had a point, Blaine guessed, but he wanted him there. He couldn't have said why, he just did.

"So, you won't come."

Kurt shook his head, his perfect coiff not budging.

"My life is awkward enough without adding an hour or two standing by myself at some guy's party that I don't even know."

Blaine was at a loss. Kurt, like his hair, was not budging an inch. He wondered if maybe he could convince him before Sunday.

"So, tomorrow," he said, changing the subject. "Do you want to start the next assignment right after school?"

Kurt looked uneasy then, his eyes leaving Blaine's.

"Can't."

"Why not?" Blaine asked, eyes slitting to study Kurt.

Kurt mumbled something that Blaine didn't quite catch. He asked him to repeat it.

"I've got glee club," he muttered, quietly.

"_Glee club?_"Blaine sluttered. "You're in _glee club?_"

"Actually, I'm auditioning," Kurt said, hesitantly.

"You _sing_?"

"That's sort of what glee club is. Singing and dancing and stuff," Kurt nodded, looking at Blaine like he'd just gotten 1+1 wrong.

"Sing something," Blaine challenged, sitting back in his chair, arms folded.

"Blaine," Kurt said, patiently. "You have been barred from this library once, we can't afford to have me barred for breaking out in song amongst the romance novels."

Blaine glanced around. Yes, they were in the romance section. For some reason, that made him feel uncomfortable. He was still feeling really sick, but it wasn't as frequent now as it had been before.

"Why are you auditioning for glee?" Blaine asked, because he genuinely didn't understand. "Don't you think you're already enough of an outcast, without adding prancing around in skirts and ringing bells to the mix?"

Kurt scowled at him.

"They don't ring bells or wear skirts—well, maybe some of the girls do," he said, looking thoughtful. "But I'm going because I like to sing and I don't have much else to do. So what if it pushes me even further down on the 'cool scale?'" he twisted his fingers into air quotes. "You guys give me hell as it is, I figure it can't really get much worse."

Blaine frowned. Kurt really had no idea.

* * *

><p>It had happened on his third Monday at McKinley High. He had been walking to his locker after lunch, minding his own business, when they had struck. The first person he saw was Puckerman—the guy who looked as if he had roadkill on his head. Karofsky, Azimio and Blaine all came into view right after him. They all wore creepy smiles—all except Blaine who just looked a little green—as they walked right up to him.<p>

Karofsky pushed him back against the wall and his bag fell from his shoulder. Kurt's heart was hammering away in his chest, his mind clouded with fear and anger and the urge to push them away from him. Sometimes—most of the time, when this happened, he wanted to turn to Blaine and scream at him, ask him why he was like this, because even though he still behaved like he was superior to Kurt while they were alone, it was a far cry from how he behaved towards him when he was with his friends.

"Why do you gotta walk around lookin' so God damned _gay_ all the time?" Karofsky asked, disgust on his face.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm gay?" Kurt offered, rolling his eyes.

Despite the fact that he knew it was better to keep your mouth shut and just let them do what they had to do, sometimes he couldn't control it.

"Don't talk back to me, Hummel," Karofsky said between clenched teeth as he shoved Kurt harder against the wall.

Kurt's back ached instantly, his skin throbbing where he had been shoved. Suddenly, Puckerman was at his side, tugging his jacket off his shoulders. Kurt jerked out of his reach, but Puck was a jock, he was stronger than Kurt.

"Your clothes belong to some glamorous grandma," Puck said, holding Kurt's jacket between his thumb and forefinger, as if he might catch a disease from it if he went any closer.

"At least the grandma is glamorous," Kurt uttered. "It's better than wearing the same jacket every day and not washing it—_ever_—like you guys do."

Kurt knew that was a lie, he had smelled Blaine enough to know that he washed his jacket almost daily.

"That's it, lady boy," Blaine said, stepping forward, but he didn't look as if his heart was in it. "You're going to be very, very sorry."

Kurt looked at Blaine, looked him right in the eye and urged him to back down, tried to send him some sort of telepathic message, but obviously, that didn't work. Blaine wasn't really a bad guy. He had learnt that over the past few weeks. He just believed that this was who he was. He didn't know how to be any other way.

Azimio was snarling now as he tugged a locker door open, snapping the lock with his strong hands. Kurt swallowed hard, realising what was about to happen. Blaine took him by the right arm, Karofsky took him by the left and began lifting him off his feet towards the open locker. Puck laughed like a hyena as he threw Kurt's jacket into a trash can.

Kurt's heart was beating fast. He looked to Blaine, trying to send him messages. _You don't have to do this, you're better than this_, but Blaine avoided his eyes entirely. Kurt had been inside a locker before. It had been the worst twenty minutes of his life and he couldn't stop the coughing for days afterwards. He wasn't sure his emotional state was going to be able to handle this again.

_Maybe he's not better than this_, Kurt thought as Blaine and Karofsky lifted him higher and began pushing him into the tight metal space.

Then the clip clop of heels sounded down the corridor and the jocks' heads all swung round towards the direction in which the sound was coming.

"Shit," Karofsky hissed and they let him go. "You're lucky this time, Hummel," he said, eyes burning through Kurt.

Blaine, Karofsky, Puck and Azimio hurried away then and Kurt pressed his back against the wall, relieved that they had left him alone. He wondered if fate was on his side for once. He stayed there for a long time. The teacher—or whoever had been around the corner—never came in his direction. He stood up straight then, because something had been stabbing him in the back. He turned around to see a thumbtack, holding a flier against the wall.

_**NEW DIRECTIONS! **_

_**LOOKING FOR NEW MEMBERS!**_

_**GLEE, BY ITS VERY DEFINITION, IS ABOUT OPENING YOURSELF UP TO JOY!**_

_**AUDITIONS ON TUESDAY AFTER SCHOOL IN THE CHOIR ROOM!**_

Underneath was an empty sign up sheet and a pen attached to a frayed string. Kurt stared at it for a moment. _Fate_, he thought briefly, before taking the pen in his still shaking hand and scribbling his name on the audition sheet.

_Kurt Hummel_.

He dropped the pen and walked away, heading towards his locker.

He could do with some joy in his life.

* * *

><p>On Thursday after school, as he walked towards the choir room, Kurt wondered why he had signed up for a glee club audition. He was beyond nervous and had never even sung in public before. He didn't really have a voice like everyone else did. He wouldn't fit in, wouldn't suit the dynamic they had already set up. However, he kept on going, because <em>fate<em>, he reminded himself, was on his side.

He took a deep breath, then walked through the open door, to be met by thirteen sets of eyes. Kurt felt himself blush, feeling awkward with everyone looking at him like that. He was probably going to fall.

A teacher with curly hair grinned at him.

"Hi!" he said, enthusiastically. "You must be Kurt Hummel! Welcome to glee club! I'm Mr Schuester!"

Kurt tried to smile, but failed miserably.

"So, do you have a song prepared?" Mr Schuester asked, still smiling brightly. "Or if you like, you can just sit in today and see how you like it?"

"Mr Schuester," a voice came from across the room, before Kurt could speak. Kurt looked in the direction from which the voice had come and saw a short girl with straight, brown hair, wearing a maroon sweater with a bucking horse on the front. He grimaced, wondering what could have possessed a person to leave the house in something so hideous. "With all due respect, we are so close to sectionals. We _need_ singers! This is supposed to be audition day and I don't know if you've noticed, but there's not exactly a queue lined up outside the door."

"Were we supposed to queue up?" a blonde girl wearing a cheerios uniform asked from the back row. Everyone ignored her, so Kurt only stared at her in confusion for a moment, before looking away.

The girl in the awful sweater was looking at Kurt now.

"Kurt Hummel, I don't mean to sound pushy or make you feel pressurised, but we need you to audition today."

Kurt gave her a nod.

"That's fine."

"Oh," the girl said, lowering herself back down in her seat. "Very well."

Mr Schuester clapped his hands together before giving Kurt another wide smile.

"It doesn't even need to be a whole song, Kurt," he said, gently. "Just.. show us what you can do!"

He took a seat and Kurt laid his bag down at his feet, heart thumping far too quickly in his chest. He tried to push away the nerves and inhibitions, before opening his mouth to sing.

_"I don't expect my love affairs to last for long,_

_Never fool myself that my dreams will come true,_

_Being used to trouble I anticipate it,_

_But all the same I hate it, wouldn't you?"_

Kurt briefly wondered why he had chosen this song. It didn't look as if anyone in the room had ever heard it before, except for sweater girl, who was lip syncing the words.

_"So what happens now?_

_So what happens now?_

_Where am I going to?_

_Where am I going to?"_

He realised that singing the song by himself meant leaving the entire title of the song out of the song and felt stupid for doing it. He closed his eyes as he continued, trying to block out the blank stares he was receiving.

_"Time and time again I've said that I don't care,_

_That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through and through,_

_But every time it matters all my words desert me,_

_So anyone can hurt me, and they do."_

He sang the chorus again, the band playing along. He felt a bit more relaxed now that he was almost done. The final verse was next, so he gave it everything, suddenly aware of just how much he really wanted to be in glee. No one was laughing, that was a good sign. Maybe this would be okay.

_"Call in three months time and I'll be fine, I know,_

_Well maybe not that fine, but I'll survive anyhow,_

_I won't recall the names and places of each sad occasion,_

_But that's no consolation here and now."_

Kurt sang the final chorus before the music faded away, his heart in his mouth. All eyes were on him. He stared into space avoiding making eye contact with anyone. Everyone began clapping then and Kurt felt his face heating up. Mr Schuester stood up from his seat and gave Kurt a pat on the back.

"Kurt," he said with a smile. "Welcome to glee club!"

* * *

><p>"Rachel Berry," the girl with the horse sweater said when Kurt walked into the canteen at lunch time on Wednesday.<p>

"Um," was all he said, distracted by the girl—Rachel's outfit; A pencil skirt, knee length socks, sensible brogues and another sweater, this time a bunny on the front. Kurt shuddered.

"I'm the star of glee club," Rachel said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "You're talented, but I'm talented, ambitious _and_ a star."

Kurt gaped at her for a moment, wondering why she was flaunting her narcicissm in front of his face.

"You sang Evita for your audition."  
>Kurt nodded.<p>

"Eva Perón is one of my dream roles," she informed him, smiling. "Well, I just thought you should know. See you later."

She walked away, nose in the air. Kurt stared after her, unable to shake the feeling that he had been threatened, indirectly.

"Pay no attention to that girl."

Kurt spun around to see another girl from glee club standing there.

"Um, hi," Kurt uttered.

"I'm Mercedes Jones," the girl said, smiling as she extended a hand to Kurt. He took it and shook it gently. "Boy, you can sing!"

Kurt allowed himself to smile a bit.

"Thank you."  
>"Rachel is just jealous. She thinks she's our star, but both you and I could sing her under the table given the chance. Hey, why don't you come sit with us?"<p>

Kurt hesitated, looking around, making sure it wasn't some kind of joke or set up. He saw Blaine across the room, at his table. He was looking in Kurt's direction, his expression unreadable. Next to him was Puck. Kurt turned back to Mercedes and gave her his best smile.

"I'd love to, thank you."

* * *

><p>"So, the party on Sunday," Blaine said on Friday during English.<p>

They were supposed to be working on their assignment, but since they had completed it already, they were just talking about nothing.

"Who even has a party on a Sunday?" Kurt shook his head.

"Puckerman."  
>"Figures," Kurt rolled his blue-green orbs.<p>

"So, are you going to come?"  
>"No, I told you that already."<p>

"Why?"

"Why do you want me to go so badly?"

Blaine looked taken aback. He looked as if he was going to insult him or threaten him, but instead, he sighed.

"I don't," he replied. "I told you. I think you need to get some friends."  
>"I have friends."<br>It was true. He had been hanging out with Mercedes and Rachel and the other members of the glee club; Tina, Brittany, Santana, Artie, Finn, Mike, Rory and Sam. He was getting on particularly well with Mercedes and even Rachel, even if neither he nor Rachel were prepared to admit it. Rachel was talented, too. She'd sung So Long Dearie from Hello Dolly! at the lunch table the day before. They were all really nice—even Rachel— and didn't treat him like an outcast. For once in his life, he felt accepted.

"Those glee losers?"

"Don't call them that, they're _nice_," Kurt told Blaine.

Blaine snickered beside him.

"Berry and her animal sweaters? That kid in the wheelchair? Trouty mouth?" he said. "_They're_ what you call friends?"

Kurt scowled, because Blaine was being incredibly rude and unfair.

"Well, they don't slushie me or shove me inside lockers, so yes, I would consider that an improvement to the only thing I had that came close to friendship before I met them."  
>He saw Blaine flinch. It was only a tiny movement, but it had happened and it satisfied Kurt.<p>

"Suit yourself, Hummel," he said with a sigh.

"I will."

* * *

><p>"HE STOLE MY DIARY!" Rachel ran into the cafeteria and screamed at the entire glee club population at the lunch table. She was soaking wet, her dark hair dripping.<p>

Everyone started asking questions. Finn, Rachel's boyfriend, pulled her down onto a bench and told her to speak slowly. Of course, this was Rachel and speaking slowly was close to impossible for her.

"Noah Puckerman," she said, sounding as if she might cry. "He slushied me, then tore my diary from my little hands and took off down the hallway! What if he looks inside?"

Rachel buried her head in the crook of her boyfriend's neck and began to cry.

"This is bad," Mercedes said to Kurt, quietly. "Like, really bad."

"It is?" Kurt asked, wondering if Rachel had some kind of deep, dark secret hidden between the pages of her diary.

"Yes," she confirmed. "Puckerman is having a party this weekend. Chances are the footballers and cheerleaders are going to read her diary together at that."  
>Kurt chewed his bottom lip. He looked over at Rachel, Finn rubbing small circles across her back as she sobbed into his neck, soaking his shirt. He glanced across to the popular table, at Puck flicking peas at Karofsky and laughing, at Karofsky scowling and flicking them back, at Blaine staring down at his tray, blankly.<p>

The bell went and people began to move. Kurt stood up and grabbed his bag.

"You ready?" Mercedes asked.

"I need to talk to Rachel for a minute," he said. "Come on."

He and Mercedes walked across to where Rachel stood. Finn gave her a quick kiss and walked away. She looked dejected, her hair sticky and hard.

"Hey, Rachel," Kurt said, softly, feeling bad for the girl.

She turned to look at him, puppy dog eyes red rimmed and shining. She sniffled and wiped her tears.

"I think I can get your diary back for you."

* * *

><p><strong>Alright, so since this is being posted so early in the day (well, not really, but in comparison to when I usually post, it is), I'll post the next part later on. Thank you for the reviews, I promise I'll reply to all of them soon. :)<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

****Sorry, my internet disconnected again last night, it's becoming a pattern, I think. Again, I own nothing. I'm probably going to spoil a bit by saying this, but M content in this chapter. Also, there's a song that I can't stop listening to for this chapter and maybe for the next chapter, too, but I'll tell you at the end, because me saying there's smut in this chapter is enough of a give away by itself.****

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5:<strong>

"Kurt, you are my hero," Rachel said, dramatically on the other end of the phone on Sunday afternoon. "Honestly, I can't thank you enough for this."

"It's okay," Kurt told her falling back against the pillows on his bed.

It wasn't okay. He was as nervous as hell. He had spent the entire morning fidgeting and trying to concentrate on homework and housework, but he could not get his mind off the party.

"Kurt, are you sure you want to do this?" Mercedes, who was over at Rachel's house, asked.

"Of course," Kurt told her. "It's terrible that they would read someone's personal diary aloud for all to hear."

"But, why would they ask you?" Mercedes asked, sceptically. "And Blaine Anderson, of all people. You don't think it's some kind of.. trap?"

Kurt had already contemplated that, but every time someone was friendly to him, he automatically assumed they were setting him up. Sometimes, you just had to take that chance.

"It's nothing I can't handle," Kurt said, hoping he sounded convincing.

Kurt had never gone to a real party. The last party he had been at had been when he was 9 and some kid invited the entire class to his birthday party. There had been a clown and bouncy castle. This was going to be very different, he imagined, though with Puckerman, who knew?

"Are you sure?" Mercedes said.

Kurt took a deep breath and shut his eyes tight, that feeling of dread still swimming around in the pit of his stomach. He opened his eyes and exhaled, his shoulders dropping, then spoke.

"I'm sure."

* * *

><p>"What's the heck is Hummel doing here?" Karofsky growled next to Blaine.<p>

Puckerman's house was dark and filled with people. Loud music thumped in Blaine's ears, the room was warm and stuffy, people shouting and laughing and talking loudly. He turned to look in the direction that Karofsky was scowling and saw Kurt lingering by the door. He was wearing a greyish vest, with a long sleeved, white shirt underneath. His pants were dark and tightly-fitted, but beyond that Blaine couldn't see much more.

"I invited him," he said, out loud.

Karofsky, Puck and Azimio turned their shell-shocked gazes on him. Blaine shrugged, trying to play unhinged.

"I thought we could have a little fun with him later."  
>The guys nodded and laughed and Puck high-fived him. He hoped they would forget about Kurt later. Blaine planned on getting far too drunk to remind them, anyway. If he was sober, he felt as if he would have to remind them, because they would bring it up the following day. Blaine didn't care that it was a school night, he just needed to stop being aware of everything around him just for a little while.<p>

He sipped a can of beer for the first hour or so, as he listened to his friends chatting away. His eyes kept searching through the crowds, past the colliding bodies and through the darkness, searching out that coiffed hair and pale, pale skin. Kurt had disappeared out of Blaine's view for a long time. He wondered if he had gone home. Then he saw him.

Blaine extended his neck a little to see where Kurt was heading and it turned out he was walking upstairs. Blaine watched a moment, then waved his half-full can at his friends, signalling that he was going to get another. He stood up, a little dizzy and crossed the room, people moving out of his way. He laid the can down on a small table and began climbing the stairs, taking small, cautious steps, because even Blaine Anderson would get laughed at if he fell.

When he reached the top, he looked around. It was fairly empty, apart from a guy passed out by the bathroom door. Blaine turned the small corner and looked down the long hallway. Kurt stood there, tugging on a door handle.

"It's locked," he told him.

Kurt looked up quickly, blue eyes widening. His face relaxed when he saw it was just Blaine. Blaine walked towards him.

"That's Puck's parents' room. He locks it during parties," Blaine confirmed. Kurt gave him a small nod. "What are you doing, anyway?"

"Puck stole Rachel's diary," he explained. "I'm only here to get it back."

Blaine stared at him for a long time. He felt sort of hurt and he couldn't make out why.

"Is that the only reason you came?"

Kurt paused, then nodded his head, quickly.

"Yes," he affirmed. "Do you know where it is? Rachel's diary?"

He was about to shrug, tell him it had nothing to do with him, ask him why he should help him, but he didn't. He sighed and turned around, gesturing for Kurt to follow him. He lead him to Puckerman's bedroom. He kept the key on top of the door frame. Blaine reached up onto his tippy toes and pulled the key down, before opening the door. He walked in, Kurt following and closed the door behind them. Puck's dark, little room was a mess. Clothes were every where, shoes covering the floor, his bed unmade. Blaine saw Kurt twist his face in disgust as he kicked a pair of boxers with the toe of his combat boot.

"It should be in here," Blaine said, tugging Puck's closet door open. Clothes weren't hanging up inside, but thrown on the floor, more shoes under them. "It might take you a while to find it, but this is where he keeps, like, everything."

Kurt moved forward, eyes darting around, making sure he wasn't about to stand on something disgusting. Blaine eyed him for a moment. His pants were super tight. Blaine couldn't take his eyes off of them. They left very little to the imagination and Blaine couldn't understand how Kurt managed to go through life in pants so tight. Surely it was uncomfortable, painful even.

He tore his gaze away, realising he was staring at Kurt's ass.

"Well, I'm going back downstairs," he declared. "You go on inside and find Berry's stupid diary. I'll contact you if Puck or anyone comes upstairs."  
>"Thanks," Kurt muttered, kicking a shoe this time.<br>Blaine watched him for another couple of heartbeats, his eyes going to those incredibly tight pants again. He shook his head and chuckled.

"How ironic that I'm sending you inside a closet," he said, before leaving the room.

He stood outside the door, simply breathing for what felt like a long time, then went back downstairs, taking the kitchen route to visit the refrigerator before joining his friends again.

Blaine was going to pump himself full of alcohol, because he just didn't need to be thinking about Kurt, or his parents, or anything any more. Maybe it was a bad idea, what with how sickly he was feeling lately, but he disregarded that. Right now, he just didn't want to care.

* * *

><p>"You're such an asshole! I can't believe you would do this!" Kurt walked closer to the back door, so that he could get a better listen to what Quinn Fabray was yelling at Blaine. "How much did you even drink? I can't take you home with me now, you know! I can't bring an alcoholic into my house, my dad will freak! You're such an asshole, Blaine!"<p>

Blaine was sighing, sounding more tired than mad.

"I'm not an alcoholic," he said, words slurring.

"You know what else?" Quinn went on. "Your dad is going to kill you when you go home in this state and you deserve it! I hope it hurts, Blaine, when he's beating you up, because _you deserve it!_ How could you do this to me?"

Kurt widened his eyes. He wondered if that was Blaine's secret, that his dad was abusive. He pressed his back to the wall next to the door and listened carefully.

"You're no fun," Blaine told her.

"Maybe if you'd stayed fucking sober you would have seen just how fun I am when we got back to my house!"

Kurt wrinkled his nose. That was an image he did not need.

"Quinn," Blaine said, tiredly. "Quinn, you suck!"

Kurt felt the corners of his mouth tilting upwards as Quinn groaned in exasperation.

"You know what, Blaine?" she snapped. "_You suck_. I don't know what I'm doing with you. We've barely done a thing over the past few weeks and you've been acting really weird. Look at you! You're a mess!"

"Where are you going?" Kurt heard Blaine sighing again.

"To find a real man, because clearly you're not capable of giving me what I deserve!"  
>Kurt moved back into the corner and watched as Quinn stormed through the kitchen and walked back through the doorway to the living room. She was kind of scary when she was mad. She looked a bit psychotic. He waited a minute, then walked outside, to find Blaine sprawled on the grass with his back against the wall. The air was cool against his clammy skin and he felt relieved to be out of the crowds. He went closer and frowned at Blaine, who looked up and smiled, eyes half closed.<p>

"Having fun?" he asked.

"A blast," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. "She's right, you know. You sort of _are_ a mess." Kurt smiled slightly.

Blaine shrugged a bit. The top button of his shirt was undone and his hair was a mess. His curls were coming astray and the gel wasn't helping any more.

"She doesn't understand me," he stuttered, eyes closing.

Kurt frowned again, before extending a hand. Blaine eyed it and looked up at him questioningly through half-lidded eyes.

"I'm getting you out of here before you do something dumb," Kurt explained. He shouldn't be helping Blaine Anderson, the guy that made him dread going to school every day, but he saw something in Blaine that he didn't see in the others and he figured everyone deserved a chance. Part of him wanted to hate him, but he couldn't do it.

A moment later, Blaine allowed Kurt to pull him to his feet. He slung one of Blaine's arms over his shoulder and gripped his other arm in his hands. Kurt lead him back into the house. Puck was standing by the refrigerator with his arms folded when they walked inside.

"What are you doing, Hummel?" he asked, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

"Taking him home," Kurt told him. "He's out of his mind."

"Why are _you_ taking him home?"

"Because it looks as if I'm the only sober one here?" Kurt made it a question.  
>"Oh," Puck nodded. "Oh, yeah."<p>

"Puck, this is the best party ev-ever!" Blaine yelled at Puck.

Puck, who wasn't as drunk as Blaine, but still drunk nevertheless, smiled goofily and gave Blaine a weak high five. Kurt rolled his eyes and tugged Blaine through the crowds in the living room, then out the front door. He bundled Blaine into the passenger seat of his car, clipped his seatbelt into place, then got in his own side. Blaine was humming something that Kurt couldn't quite make out.

"Are we going to Narnia?"

Kurt turned and looked at Blaine as if he had just grown three heads and a beak and ignored that. He turned away, shaking his head and started to drive. Blaine continued to hum something that probably wasn't even a real song, while Kurt tried to come up with a plan. He didn't know what to do with Blaine. He didn't want to take him home because of what Quinn had said about his dad, but he couldn't just leave him on the side of the street.

"Blaine, is there anywhere you can go?"

"I can go to the moon," Blaine said, gazing out the window and up at the opalescent moon high in the sky. His eyes were wide and filled with wonderment, the moon light reflected in them.

Kurt raised an eyebrow and decided not to ask any more questions. Clearly, alcohol caused Blaine's mind to become occupied by a five year old girl. He wondered briefly what he had gotten himself into and questioned himself as to why he was helping him out. But Kurt couldn't just leave him there, he just couldn't. He would feel guilty about it later. There was only one place Kurt could think of that he could take Blaine.

Blaine was humming and Kurt was driving and every now and then Blaine would say something senseless and Kurt would agree, whilst stifling his laughter. Finally, Kurt stopped the car.

"Wh-where are we?" Blaine asked, sounding a bit dazed.

"My house."

* * *

><p>By the time Kurt had dragged Blaine into his room, which was situated in the basement, Blaine was more in a state of passing out than giddy enthusiasm. Kurt threw him down on his bed, feeling awkward, because he was not going to share a bed with another guy tonight, especially not Blaine Anderson. Kurt decided he would make a bed up on the small couch for himself, because Blaine had already curled himself into the pillows on his bed. He crossed the room and opened his closet, pulled a blanket and extra pillow out, then went towards the couch. He laid the blanket down and then the pillow, before pulling Rachel's small diary from the inside pocket of his vest and laying it down on his desk.<p>

"Kurt."

Kurt swung around to find Blaine sitting up on his bed, eyes opened and searching the room.

"Blaine, go to sleep."

"My head hurts," he groaned.

Kurt sighed and went into the bathroom. He came back out, holding a glass of water and some paracetamol. He went and sat down next to Blaine. He handed him the glass and then the pills.

"Take these."

Blaine asked no questions, simply threw the pills into his open mouth, then swallowed them down with the water. Kurt stood up and took the glass from him, because he looked as if he might drop it, then walked across the room and laid it down on his desk.

"How do you walk?"

"What?" Kurt asked, as he walked back to sit down.

"In those pants," Blaine said, gaze dropping to Kurt's legs.

Kurt blushed and quickly moved to take a seat on the edge of his bed.

"Used to it," he shrugged.

"But they're s-so _tight_," he said. "Your legs must be screaming!"

Kurt smiled at that.

"Well, I bet your hair spends most of its time screaming," Kurt teased. "You wear _a lot_ of gel."

"I don't like my curls," Blaine pouted, sounding like a toddler.

"I like your curls better than the slick gel-do," Kurt smiled, softly, counting his blessings that Blaine probably wouldn't remember this conversation come morning.

"When I pinch them," Blaine said, leaning across and attempting to pinch the material of Kurt's jeans near his knee. Kurt jerked back a little bit at Blaine's touch. "It's like pinching air. _They're so tight!_"

"Right," Kurt said, standing up. "I'll be right back, I'm gonna change."

"Out of the tight pants?"

"Out of the tight pants," he affirmed. "Do you want to change?"

"No," Blaine said, lying back and curling himself into a fetal position.

Kurt rolled his eyes and went to his closet. He pulled out some pyjama pants and a t-shirt, then went into the bathroom. He changed, then went back into his room. When he walked out, Blaine was sitting with his legs crossed on Kurt's bed, reading something.

"Is that Rachel's diary?" Kurt exclaimed, rushing forward to get a closer look.

"Rachel Berry's not a good girl," Blaine said, in a sing-song voice.

Kurt resisted the urge to lean over Blaine's shoulder and read what apparently made her not a 'good girl'. Instead, he snatched the small book from Blaine's hands and closed it.

"Read it, read it, read it!" Blaine grinned, clapping his hands, like a trained seal.

Kurt rolled his eyes and sighed.

"This," he held up the diary in the air. "Is Rachel's private property. It is completely wrong that either of us read this!"

"She's having sex with Finn Hudson, though," Blaine said, the bridge of his nose crinkling. Kurt widened his eyes, then stopped himself, because he wasn't about to gossip with Blaine Anderson about his friend. "Who would have sex with Finn Hudson?"

"He's her _boyfriend_," Kurt provided, standing up and slipping the diary into his drawer, out of Blaine's reach.

"But _Finn Hudson_," Blaine wrinkled his nose. "Finn Hudson used to be on the football team, then he joined glee club and turned gay."

"He's dating Rachel, Blaine, he's not gay," Kurt rolled his eyes. "And joining glee club doesn't turn you gay."

"You're gay," Blaine pointed out.

"I was gay before I joined glee club," Kurt told him. He found himself asking what he'd gotten himself into not for the first time that day.

He walked to his dresser and sat down and began his daily skin care regimen.

"What are you doing?" Blaine asked, scooting over so that his legs hung over the edge of the bed. Kurt eyed him through the mirror.

"Moisturising," he apprised him.

"_Why?_"

"Because I don't want pores," he explained. "And it makes your skin softer."

"It does?"

Kurt nodded and wished Blaine would go to sleep, so that the night could just end and they could go back to their strained friendship, consisting of hating each other and then sort of liking each other, tomorrow.

Blaine stood up and fell over his own feet. He reached out and clutched Kurt's dresser to stop himself from falling flat on his face. Kurt smiled and watched as Blaine pulled himself to his feet.

"What are you doing?" Kurt asked Blaine, who was now staring down at him, smiling like an idiot.

"C-can you make my skin soft and not have pores?"

Kurt raised a thin brow and studied Blaine, trying to make out just what this boy was all about. Didn't they say that drunkenness brought out the truth? Was this the true Blaine? A soppy, childish, adorable—

_Adorable?_

He shook his head and pretended he hadn't just thought that.

"Fine," Kurt stood up and pushed Blaine down into the chair by the shoulders. Blaine was grinning, his eyes half-lidded.

Kurt squeezed some of the cream into the palm of his hand and took some on his fingers. He used the side of his hand, the one that had the pool of cream in it, to push Blaine's curls back from his forehead. With the other hand, he placed small blobs of moisturiser onto various areas of Blaine's face. He then began to massage them in. Blaine's skin was already ridiculously smooth. Blaine had to have his own skin care regimen, there was no way that was natural.

Blaine's smile had faded. He was watching Kurt with an almost intense gaze, his lips together, eyes narrowed slightly. Kurt felt heat spreading up the back of his neck as he continued to smear the cream across Blaine's skin, those golden syrup eyes watching him intently. He felt his pulse speeding up when his fingers went closer to Blaine's lips. He felt Blaine's breath warm and slow against his skin, lingering there, then the cool air was sweeping back in and ridding it of the warmth.

When Kurt had finished, he pulled away, slowly, then wiped his hands with a piece of tissue paper. Blaine's hazel eyes never left his face. Kurt felt uneasy because this was Blaine Anderson and he wasn't supposed to be feeling uneasy around Blaine Anderson for _those_ reasons.

"Um," Kurt shook his head and turned away from Blaine. "It's late and a school night, we should go to bed."

Blaine stood up then and almost fell again. Kurt moved forward and caught Blaine's arms before he could hit the floor. Blaine looked up at him and Kurt could only stare back. Blaine's arms were well-built, Kurt realised. He was a jock, after all, but Kurt hadn't expected this, because Blaine was so _small_. But he could feel the flex of his bicep, the muscles tight and strong against his finger tips. This was not good.

He walked Blaine over to the bed and set him down on it, then began to turn away to go to the made-up bed on the couch, but Blaine reached out and caught his arm.

"Kurt," he said in an almost whisper.

Kurt swallowed hard at the sound of his name coming from Blaine's lips in that hushed tone. He felt that familiar clenching and unclenching in the pit of his stomach, as he felt himself go semi-hard. Why in the name of all that was holy was he getting hard because of Blaine Anderson? Sure, he was pretty cute, but Blaine was a jerk most of the time and Kurt didn't like him, not like that, anyway. He gave Blaine a questioning look. Blaine simply pulled him down to sit next to him. Kurt crossed his legs, hoping to conceal what had to be a very prominent bulge. He didn't dare look down.

"Kurt, are you drunk?"

"No," he told him.

"Why not?"

"I don't like alcohol," he shrugged.

"But don't you like the feeling of getting away from everything? Just for a little while? Don't you just want everything to fuck off just for a little while?"

Kurt smiled, sadly. Blaine was drinking to forget—or to escape, he guessed.

"It'll all still be there when you sober up," he said, matter-of-factly.

"But just for a little while, it's gone, all of it, just—gone," Blaine said, dreamily. "You just get to be whoever you want to be and you don't have to care!"

"That's nice, Blaine," Kurt smiled and tried to stand up, but Blaine clutched his arm again and pushed him back into a seated position.

"Don't you think it would be nice not to care, Kurt?" he asked, a little breathlessly. "Even if it doesn't last forever, don't you want to just let loose for a bit? To just do whatever the fuck you want?"

Kurt chuckled, because Blaine looked ecstatically happy at that moment, happier than he had ever seen him and it was still a nice thing to see a good-looking boy smiling. Blaine inched closer and grinned into Kurt's face, his golden brown eyes canopied by the thick sweep of his long, full lashes.

"Do you know what you should do, Kurt?" Blaine asked.

"What?" he asked, a little breathlessly, feeling heat climbing up the back of his neck. Blaine was far too close.

Blaine's breath was warm on his skin again and Kurt really needed to stand up or he was going to end up coming in his pants, in front of and _because of_ Blaine Anderson, thus becoming completely humiliated. But he couldn't move, not while Blaine's bright eyes were looking at him like that and not while his rose-coloured lips were so pretty in the light of the moon slipping through the blinds.

"You should kiss me until you're drunk."

Kurt froze. _Had Blaine really just said that?_

"I should do wha—"

"Come on, Kurt," Blaine breathed against Kurt's lips, his big eyes flicking back and forth between Kurt's lips and eyes. "Get drunk on my kisses. Take some of my drunk. Kiss me and get drunk and just—just forget the world and stuff."

Kurt couldn't think. Everything was happening far too quickly. Blaine's hot gaze was not helping matters either. He tried to breathe, tried to think, but Blaine's lips were coming closer now and he shouldn't have wanted to do this, but he did.

"Kiss me until you're drunk," Blaine repeated, in the softest, slowest whisper Kurt had ever encountered and then Blaine's lips were pressing down over his own and he lost all control and ability to think sensibly, because all that meant anything was Blaine kissing him like he needed him, like he _wanted_ him and sometimes, all Kurt craved was for someone to want him.

* * *

><p>Blaine was hovering over him now, his kisses more hungry, not as cautious and controlled as the first had been. They were sloppy, too, because Blaine was so drunk. His lips and tongue tasted like alcohol, that strong, bitter, tangy taste that Kurt disliked so much. But Blaine's mouth against his own wasn't unpleasant in the least. Nor were Blaine's fingers tracing lines along the hollows of his hip bones.<p>

Kurt gasped against Blaine's lips when cold fingers slipped beneath his shirt and touched his bare skin. He could feel Blaine's heart beat against his chest, thumping just as hard and as fast as his own. As if on instinct, Kurt raised his hands to entwine his fingers in Blaine's damp curls, wanting more from him, wanting him to keep on kissing him, even though he knew it was something he most definitely should not want. Kurt started to wonder if maybe his Coke had been spiked at the party. Blaine had told him to kiss him until he was drunk. He certainly _felt_ drunk and his actions certainly complied with the idea of being spiked.

He felt Blaine shift above him and then his hips were lowering to meet Kurt's. Kurt went still when he felt Blaine's hard on through his jeans, pressing against his thigh. He hoped to God Blaine couldn't feel his erection, though he probably could. He was so close and Kurt was so hard and all he wanted to do was tear his pants away and relieve himself.

Kurt told himself to push Blaine away, to tell him that they shouldn't—_couldn't_— do it and he almost did tell him that, but then Blaine's fingers skirted lower and his other hand was toying with the waistband of Kurt's pants and he lost it, lost the ability to think properly, his mind clouded, his body full of need and want and so many other things he couldn't put a name to with Blaine's mouth trailing along his jaw and then lingering by his ear like that.

"Want you," he hissed and Kurt shivered.

He couldn't deny the fact that he wanted Blaine, too, because Blaine was doing things to him, things that he couldn't explain, things he had never felt before. He gave in, then. He couldn't fight, he wanted this and it seemed as if Blaine did, too. Blaine was incredibly drunk and straight and had a girlfriend, but Kurt didn't care, he would deal with all that tomorrow. Right now, Blaine's hands were pushing his pants lower and his lips were trailing along his neck and he was making small humming sounds and beyond that, Kurt didn't know anything else, nor did he care about anything else.

He opened his eyes and the cool air hit his legs and suddenly his pants were gone. He glanced down and saw that Blaine's shirt was gone. How had he done that without him having noticed? Kurt pondered this for a short time, then Blaine was pushing his t-shirt up along his stomach and baring his chest and Kurt forgot about that. Kurt raised his arms and Blaine tugged the t-shirt off and threw it to the side. Kurt groaned as Blaine dropped down and pressed his mouth to his chest, his lips travelling aimlessly along his rib cage and up over his nipples, sending small thrills along Kurt's skin and shivers down his spine.

Kurt's fingers found their way back into Blaine's curls, tugging them gently. He threw his head back when Blaine began to move lower, his fingers hooking themselves into the waistband of Kurt's boxers. Kurt's heart was beating manically in his chest, his head dizzy. He raised his hips to give Blaine room to tug them down. In one swift movement, Kurt was entirely naked, the cool air caressing his skin.

Kurt had only ever been with one other guy like this and even at that, no one had ever seen him completely naked until now. He felt a little embarrassed when Blaine sat back on his knees to look down at him. He only stared for a couple of seconds, before moving to kneel between Kurt's knees. He placed a hand on either side of Kurt's legs. He pushed them up, bending his knees, then pushed them apart.

Blaine took his cock in his hand, carefully, fingers brushing over the head and then almost painfully, slowly along the shaft. And then his mouth had replaced his hand and Kurt lost it. His fingers clasped onto the sheets beneath him, his legs twisted and Blaine had to grab onto his ankles to keep him still. Loud moans escaped his throat, his chest rising and falling quickly, his lungs gasping for air. He remembered that his dad was home, then and would not be happy if he walked in and saw what was going down. He reached around and grabbed a pillow and pressed it to his mouth, stifling a groan. It didn't help that Blaine was humming a little as he sucked up and down on his cock.

Kurt felt himself nearing the edge, his stomach tightening a bit. He bucked his hips a little and Blaine moved back slightly. Kurt groaned at the loss of Blaine's heat, but then he moved forward again, taking him back inside his mouth and Kurt flung his head back as the orgasm hit. He screamed into the pillow as he came, shooting come into Blaine's mouth. Blaine didn't flinch, simply continued to suck as Kurt pushed his hips forward to meet Blaine's mouth, riding out the orgasm, until he couldn't move any longer.

He collapsed down on the bed and Blaine pulled his mouth off of Kurt's softening cock. He fell down, cheek resting against Kurt's abdomen, breathing hard, his breath warm on Kurt's stomach.

They stayed like that for far too long, Kurt trying to process what had just happened and failing, because Blaine had possibly fallen asleep like that. Kurt forced himself up and eased himself out from beneath Blaine. He was too tired to get up and he didn't think his legs would carry him anyway, so he pushed back the covers of his bed and climbed in. Minutes later, just as he was dozing off to sleep, he felt a weight lifting from the bed and then the sound of a zipper. He forced his eyes open just as Blaine pushed his own jeans off. Blaine wasn't hard any more, but he hadn't remembered him coming. Except, apparently, he had. Kurt stared at Blaine's cock for a moment. It was hard to see it properly in the dim light of his lamp. Kurt watched as Blaine peeled his underwear off and then wiped himself with them, before throwing them to the ground. He then walked across the room and flicked the switch on the lamp, leaving them in darkness, only the light of the moon slipping through the blinds providing any light.

Kurt closed his eyes when Blaine crossed the room and climbed into the bed next to him. He opened them again when he felt Blaine's arms snaking around his waist, his head resting on his shoulder. He closed them again when he felt Blaine's heart beating evenly against his back, small snoring sounds escaping his lips, giving him comfort. Then he fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>The song is Love Hangover by Jason Derulo. I think it fits, anyway. I'll put the link on my profile. Let me know what you thought!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**I own nothing, obviously. I haven't got a whole lot to say, except that I still keep singing Love Hangover during the beginning of this.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6:<strong>

Blaine opened his eyes and the first thing he realised was that he was hard. The second thing he realised was that there was someone in bed next to him and before he knew what he was doing he was pushing himself on top of that person and plunging his tongue past their lips. Blue eyes met his own and he deepened the kiss, his cock growing harder, then reached down and grabbed the hand that was curling around his hip. He moved it until it rested against his erection, fingers curling to encompass it.

"God, Kurt."

_Kurt_.

He sprang back, almost falling over the side of the bed, his fingers gripping the bed clothes to keep himself upright. He stared at Kurt in horror, his heart thumping wildly against his ribs. It hit him then what had happened the previous night.

_He'd given Kurt a blow job._

He began to mutter obscenities under his breath. Kurt watched him, a look of concern on his face. It was a long time before he spoke.

"Blaine," he said, softly. "Blaine, relax. Lie back down, you're going to give yourself a heart attack."

Blaine lay back down, because laying back down sounded good. His head was spinning and all he wanted to do was lie back down and close his eyes. He felt as if he couldn't breathe properly and he didn't dare speak, because he was afraid of what he might say. But he was still hard and it wasn't going away any time soon and he needed to solve it, or he might possibly cry, because everything was so wrong and he shouldn't want what he wanted.

"Blaine," Kurt said, looking down at them with those bright, cyan eyes. "It's okay to want things."  
>And then Kurt was reaching down and curling his fingers back around Blaine's cock, his eyes never leaving Blaine's face and Blaine simply could not push him away.<p>

"Please," he whispered so quietly, that he wasn't sure Kurt had heard him.

Only he had, because he began thrusting his hand up and down over Blaine's cock, pre-come spilling from the tip, making Kurt's strokes easier and faster. Blaine was moaning quietly, his breaths coming faster with Kurt's movements. It wasn't long before Blaine was coming, white streaks hitting his chest and Kurt's arm. Kurt continued to pump on it until Blaine was done, then he let him go and reached down onto the ground. He sat back up and wiped his t-shirt across Blaine's chest, then along his own arm.

Blaine lay there staring at the ceiling, the realisation of everything suddenly hitting him. His mind couldn't handle everything. There was no real explanation for everything. Sure, he'd been drunk the night before, but that didn't make any excuses for what had just happened. It certainly made no excuses for why he had wanted it to happen, nor did it make any excuses for why he could not take his eyes off of Kurt's bare chest. He wanted to scream. He opened his mouth, but it never came.

"This isn't happening," he whispered to the ceiling.

"I'd love to tell you that it didn't happen," Kurt told him. "But it did."

"Not helping."

"Sorry."

He shut his eyes tight and promised a million and one things if God, or whoever was up there, would just make everything that had happened in the past 24 hours go away. Nothing went away.

"I won't tell a soul," Kurt told him, after a while.

Blaine twisted his neck to look up at him.

"Y—you won't?" he asked, in an almost whisper.

"No," Kurt shook his head.

"Why would you do that?" he asked. He should have just taken it and been thankful, but something inside him had to know. "You could destroy me. I've treated you like crap. Why wouldn't you take that opportunity?"

Kurt tilted his head and studied Blaine for a few heart beats. Blaine frowned because he didn't know what else to do.

"I could destroy you, that's true," he began and Blaine's heart sank a little. "But, I don't believe in outing, no matter what the circumstances."

"I'm not gay."

Kurt didn't look at all convinced. To be fair, he had good reason.

"Maybe," he said. "But you're obviously going through some things you need to work out and even though you're an asshole most of the time, I think you're a good guy underneath all that. So, no, I'm not going to tell anyone what happened."

Blaine felt relief sweeping into his body, but the entire weight had not been lifted.

"Thanks," he managed to choke out.

"No problem," Kurt shrugged. "So, do you want to go, um, shower? I need to tell my dad you're here—"

"But you said—"

"I said I need to tell him you're _here_. I don't plan on telling him what happened during your stay."

"Oh," Blaine said, feeling stupid. He was so paranoid right now. His entire body was shaking and that feeling was still in the pit of his stomach, swirling around and making him want to vomit, just to get rid of it. But he knew it wouldn't go away. He took his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, pushing away the tears that were welling up in his eyes, a lump forming in his throat.

Kurt stood up then and Blaine tried to avert his eyes from his naked body, but he couldn't resist a glance.

"Oh, no."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?"

Blaine buried his head in his hands.

"Go look in a mirror."

He stayed like that for a few seconds, until he heard Kurt make a small gasping sound.

"Did I..?" Blaine trailed off then, because it was a ridiculous question.

"Well, yeah," Kurt said, studying the purplish bruise on the side of his neck. "I didn't have a heavy make out session before I bumped into you last night, you know."

Blaine flinched at that. He still couldn't process entirely the fact that he had done what he had done with Kurt. And now there was evidence in the form of a hickey on Kurt's pale skin. He would be reminded of it every time he looked at him for the next while.

"It'll be okay," Kurt said, swinging around and opening his closet. He dug around inside and pulled out pants and a shirt. Blaine watched in a daze as he tugged them on. It was pointless to look away now, he supposed. Finally, Kurt grabbed a scarf and draped it around his neck, covering the mark. He turned to look at Blaine.

"See?" he smiled, brightly. Blaine dropped his gaze. "Can't even notice it!"

Blaine gave a small nod. Kurt stared at him for a while. He could feel the ice blue gaze on him and he didn't dare look up, not into those eyes.

"Well," Kurt said, after a while. "You can borrow some underwear if you want."

"I've got my ow—_oh_. Right," Blaine felt his face flushing. "Um, thanks."

Kurt gave him a smile, then.

"I'll be right back."

The second Kurt left the room, Blaine went into extreme panic mode.

* * *

><p>"Hey, kiddo," Burt said when Kurt walked into the kitchen moments later. "How was the party?"<p>

Burt was buttering toast at the kitchen table. Kurt took a seat next to him.

"Uh, okay," Kurt lied. "Dad, a friend of mine—well, not really a friend, I'm just partnered with him for English and we don't even really like each other that much—"

"Kurt."

"What?"

"Spit it out."

Burt had stopped spreading the butter across the toast and was staring at Kurt like he was crazy.

"Oh," he paused a minute, to gather his thoughts, then went on. "So, this kid, Blaine, he got crazy drunk and I sort of had to.. take him home with me. Because I was the only one not drinking, so I was the only one that could drive—"

"So, you had to take this—this _friend_ home with you? To sleep in your room?" Burt asked, giving Kurt an accusative glare. He had laid the toast and knife down completely now.

Kurt shook his head. If his dad really knew what had happened.. well, Kurt didn't know what he would do, but Blaine wouldn't have gotten off without one hell of a verbal grilling and Kurt didn't want to go there.

"Dad," he stated, trying to remain calm, but it was hard to stay calm when he thought about everything that had occurred.. "He's not even a friend, okay? He's just an acquaintance, but I had to. I didn't know what else to do."

"You couldn't take him home?"

"I overheard his girlfriend shouting at him," Kurt explained. "She said that if he went home in that state, his dad would beat him up. I'm not sure how serious she was, but I wasn't sure I should take that chance."

"His girlfriend?"

Kurt nodded and he saw Burt's face soften a little.

"Quinn," Kurt clarified.

"So, you're just friends with this—this.."

"Blaine," Kurt nodded. "And yeah, sort of. Friends might be pushing it. He's sort of an ass."

Burt chuckled, then and retrieved the knife and toast.

"Alright, thanks for telling me," he said, giving Kurt a pat on the shoulder. "Now go get your ass of a friend and eat some breakfast. I need to leave soon."

"Okay, dad."

* * *

><p>"I'm not meeting your dad, Hummel," Blaine shook his head, adamantly. "I don't care if it's part of the terms to keep you quiet, I won't do it."<p>

He'd finished showering and changing and was sitting on the edge of Kurt's bed examining his room. It was very... _stylish_, Blaine guessed. It looked like something out of one of those interior design magazines his mom had lying around. Everything seemed to match and compliment one another. He conceded that Kurt was probably the most stereotypical gay alive.

"You're an asshole, Blaine," Kurt told him, folding his arms and frowning at him. "He just wants to know who spent the night in his son's room, that's all. It's nothing formal."

Blaine shook his head again. He was playing it down, but he felt like screaming. He couldn't understand what had happened, or why it had happened, or why he had wanted it to happen. He just didn't know any more.

"Still not doing it."

"He'll come down here, you know," Kurt said.

Blaine scowled at Kurt, who simply raised a thin eyebrow. Blaine sighed. He didn't want to see Kurt's father in the room that they'd.. done what they had done. He felt as if he might be able to sense it if he came in.

"God, _fine_," he groaned, hoping he was appearing as normal as humanly possible. "I'll have breakfast with the Hummels, will that satisfy you?"

Kurt smirked, then and Blaine blushed.

"I have a condition."

"I'm not sure you're at liberty to make conditions, Blaine," Kurt said, with a smile.

Blaine tried to protest, but Kurt shook his head.

"I was kidding, I said I wouldn't tell anyone and I won't, okay?" he assured him. "Now tell me you're condition so my dad can leave for work and we can leave for school."

Blaine thought for a moment. The condition was that they never talk about what had happened ever again, but he wondered if that was a wise thing to ask. Maybe he would need to talk about it. Maybe he would want to some day. Blaine shook his head.

"Never mind," he said, sounding defeated. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>"So, Blaine," Burt said once they were all at the kitchen table. Kurt was nibbling on fruit, while Blaine munched on Corn Flakes. "Kurt tells me you're workin' on some kinda project together."<p>

"It's an assignment, dad," Kurt told him.

"Right, an assignment. How's that goin'?" Burt was looking questioningly at Blaine. Kurt was rolling his eyes across the table. He peeled a banana and began eating it. Blaine's mind began to wander. Did everyone look like that while eating a banana? Were bananas just really awkward fruits that made everyone look seductive while eating one? Blaine swallowed and looked down into his cereal. It had to be the after effects of the alcohol, it just _had_ to be.

"Um, it's going good," he said, then cleared his throat. "We're ahead of schedule."

It was easily the most awkward moment Blaine had ever endured in all his 17 years of living. His first meeting with Quinn's parents hadn't been this awkward and that had been pretty awkward.

"That's good," Burt nodded. "What's this, uh, project on?"

"_Assignment_, dad," Kurt exhaled. Blaine glanced up, just as Kurt took another bite and suddenly his head was filled with images of Kurt's mouth _doing things_ to him. This was bad. "And it's on 'Jane Eyre'."

Blaine felt the panic returning. It hadn't really left, but it had been laying dormant while he dealt with the awkwardness of meeting Kurt's dad. Now, it was back with full force. His stomach and head and muscles ached and he felt sick to his stomach. He laid the spoon down, because if he ate another bite, he was going to have a repeat of the library incident in Kurt's kitchen.

Burt nodded and adjusted his cap, looking as if he knew absolutely nothing about it. That was okay, that meant he wouldn't ask any more questions.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've gotta get to the garage," Burt stood up and held a hand out to Blaine. "Nice meetin' you, Blaine."

Blaine shook his hand.

"You, too, Mr Hummel," he said, forcing a smile. Burt Hummel was a nice guy, Blaine just wished they had met under different circumstances.

Burt crossed the room and gave Kurt a pat on the shoulder.

"Seeya later, kid."

"Bye, dad," Kurt said and Burt left the house. "We should go," Kurt said, a minute later. He laid the banana peel down on the table and stood up. Blaine stood up, too.

"Yeah," was all he said in response.

"I'll take you home so you can arrive at school in your own car," Kurt informed him. "And your own underpants."

Blaine stood still gaping after Kurt for a minute, then followed him outside. He got the feeling that Kurt would never, ever let him forget.

* * *

><p>Kurt pulled up outside the school, still thinking about what had happened with Blaine. He had pretended like it meant nothing, that he could sit back and joke about it, but he couldn't understand why or how or what had even really happened. And what he really had trouble comprehending, was why he couldn't stop thinking about Blaine, why he had <em>liked it<em> and why he had still wanted to lean across the kitchen table and kiss him senseless.

He didn't know why he'd given Blaine a handjob that morning, either. He hadn't meant to, but Blaine had whispered his name so quietly and with so much ardent need that something clicked inside of Kurt and he had to do it. He wanted to hear Blaine making those small needy sounds because of what _he _was doing to him. It was stupid, really and Kurt couldn't explain it, but that was just how things were.

Kurt had seen the panic on Blaine's face. He'd tried to hide it, but Kurt could see it and he knew he was questioning everything he was. Kurt was questioning it, too. Blaine Anderson wasn't as straight as he had initially believed, even if he was going to continue telling other people and himself, that he was.

Kurt grabbed his bag from the back seat and reached for the handle of the door. Just as he began pulling the handle towards him, his phone omitted a bleeping sound: His message tone. He reached inside his pocket, fearful that his father had taken ill again and looked down at the screen. Relief soared through his body when he saw who it was from.

**1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: BLAINE.**

Kurt clicked the button in the centre and the screen loaded to reveal the message.

_Use the back door._

Kurt stared at the text for a good two minutes, then replied.

_Why?_

He wondered if it was a trap, if Blaine was getting him back for everything that had happened. Then another text came through.

_Trust me?_

Trust him? Kurt didn't trust him. He treated him like crap just so that his friends still believed he was the tough, popular jock. No, Kurt did not trust him one little bit. This was obviously a trap. He would take the front door.

He started to open his car door again when his phone made another beeping sound. He opened the text.

_Maybe 'trust me' was a bad choice of words, but I just got a text and I sort of owe you for promising not to tell anyone about what happened. So, just take the back door, okay?_

Kurt eyed the message for a few heart beats. It had probably taken a lot for Blaine to admit he owed him. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he should take the back entrance.

Kurt shoved the phone into his pocket and climbed out of his car. He locked it, then went around the side of the school, heading for the back door.

Once inside, Kurt walked down the halls and stopped a little away from the front doors and sure enough, there they were. Karofsky, Azimio, Puckerman and three other footballers were standing there grinning, red cups in their hands. Blaine had been telling the truth. Of course, he had realised this the second he stepped through the back doors of McKinley High, but seeing them there, looking all menacing sort of put everything into perspective. Blaine had warned him, which only caused Kurt's belief that Blaine wasn't all bad to grow. Maybe he'd done it to protect himself, but even still. This was definitely progress.

* * *

><p>"Kurt, I can't thank you enough!" Rachel told him at lunch, a broad smile on her face. "Just for this, I'll allow you to sing first at glee club tomorrow!"<p>

Kurt raised an eyebrow. Rachel was probably the most annoying human being ever to have graced the planet, but she was okay, really. Just as long as you didn't have to listen to her for too long.

"So, what was it like?" Mercedes asked. "Did anyone ask what you were doing there?"

"No, surprisingly," Kurt said. It had been a surprise, actually. He wondered why no one had demanded he leave. "But it was boring, really. Mostly jocks getting drunk and people dancing badly."

He wasn't lying, either. He didn't see the appeal of these ridiculous parties. Maybe it was because he didn't drink. Regardless, he'd been more bored than he ever remembered being.

"I like those parties," Brittany said, from across the table. "One time, Santana and I got locked in a closet and—"

"Okay!" Santana said, cutting her off. "No one needs to hear about that."

Everyone was busy gaping at the two cheerleaders, Santana's face flushing, Brittany staring blankly at her lunch, when Kurt felt his scarf being tugged from his throat. He swung around quickly and made a grab for it, but Puck held it high in the air.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" he sneered. "Did Hummel get himself a boyfriend?"

Kurt stood up and pressed the palm of his hand over the purplish bruise on his neck. He tried to snatch the scarf back with his other hand, but Puck just laughed and held it away from him.

"So, who was it, Hummel?" Puck asked and Kurt's eyes found Blaine across the room. He was looking at him, his eyes filled with worry, a small crease across his forehead. Kurt tried to give him an expression, assuring him that he wouldn't tell, but he didn't think it made much of an impact. "Was it—"

"Back off, Puckerman," Kurt heard from behind. He turned around to see Finn Hudson standing up. Finn was the tallest guy Kurt knew and he looked pretty strong, too.

"Or what?" Puck spat.

"Or I'll tell Beiste about those little packages you buy from Sandy Ryerson and then she won't play you any more."

That seemed to change Puck's manner. He let go of the scarf and it fell to the ground. Kurt reached down and grabbed it and wrapped it back around his neck, his cheeks a bright red. Puck scowled at Finn before stalking off. Kurt sat back down.

"Thanks, Finn," he said, watching Finn sitting back down, too.

"No problem," he shrugged. "Puckerman's an asshole."

Kurt nodded.

"So, are you going to tell us who's been sucking on your neck?" Mercedes grinned next to him.

It was going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>"So," Puck said, later that day at Blaine's locker. "It looks like Hummel found himself a boyfriend after he dropped you off last night."<p>

Blaine glanced at Puck as he dug in his locker. Puck didn't look as if he knew anything, thank God. Blaine mumbled something that he hoped sounded like a yes and continued to rummage around.

"I called your house last night," Karofsky said, next to Puck. Blaine's heart sank. "Me and Azimio were gonna go start a bonfire and we were seeing if you wanted to come. Your mom said you weren't there. Where'd you go?"

Blaine's eyes widened and he thought hard, trying to come up with anything that would get him out of this stupid mess. He felt so sick he just wanted to lay down and sleep for a long, long time.

"I stayed at Quinn's," he said, finally, heart thumping manically in his chest.

"Really?" Puck asked, looking confused.

"Yeah," Blaine shrugged. "Why?"

Puck knew, he had to know. But how could he know?

"No reason," he said. "Hey, there's Hummel."

Blaine turned his attention back to his locker, as Puck and Karofsky turned to look at Kurt across the hallway.

"We should go ask him about his new boyfriend," Puck grinned, eyes flashing. "It's the polite thing to do, after all."

Maybe he didn't know after all. He didn't sound as if he knew. Maybe he was just wondering why Blaine had left without Quinn. That had to be it.

"Yeah, we should," Blaine said, forcing a grin, hoping it would push any thoughts that might be in Puck's head regarding him and Kurt away. He was probably just paranoid, but it couldn't hurt to make sure.

Minutes later, Puck, Blaine and Karofsky were circled around Kurt, smiling at him. The corners of Blaine's mouth were tilted upwards, but not by much. Kurt looked distressed and tired. Blaine looked away.

"So, Hummel," Puck said, hand reaching for the scarf again. Blaine had the urge to reach across and push him away, but he couldn't. He was stuck to the floor, unable to move. Puck slid the scarf away from Kurt's neck before he could grab it back. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Fuck you, Puckerman," Kurt spat and Blaine wished he wouldn't talk back and make things worse.

"Shut up, Hummel!" Karofsky said, punching the locker next to Kurt. Kurt jumped a little and so did Blaine. He was so on edge today. He felt really sick and every little thing set his pulse racing.

"You shouldn't go round showing these things off, you know," Puck told Kurt. "We don't need to know you had some guy's dick up your ass last night, Hummel."  
>Blaine flinched then, because what if it had come to that? What if things had escalated and he and Kurt had.. He shook his head. That didn't bear thinking about.<p>

"I think," Puck went on, dropping Kurt's scarf to the ground and stepping on it. "That we need to teach you a lesson."

"Look, I wore the scarf so no one would see," Kurt explained, looking more than a little alarmed. "You dragged it off—"

"I said," Karofsky growled. "_Shut up._"

"What do you think we should do with him?" Puck said, looking thoughtful. "We could put him under a slushie machine and turn it on. Or we could lock him inside a locker."

Karofsky hooted and began tugging a locker opened. Blaine's stomach churned. This was a bad time for him to feel like vomiting.

"Or," Puck said, drawing out the 'r' sound. "We could take him inside the bathroom and give him a nice swirly."

Karofsky was grinning like an animal now and Kurt just looked terrified, his blue eyes wide with fear. It was strange. Kurt was a highly opinionated, snarky guy when he was around Blaine, but in the presence of the guys, he fell to pieces.

"What do you think, Blaine?"

Blaine looked up quickly, "Wh-what?" he asked.

Kurt was staring at him now, eyes pleading. He had to look away.

"What do you think we should do with him?"

Blaine almost suggested letting him go, but he couldn't say that. For one, they'd think he'd gone soft and secondly, this was what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to put these kids in their places, teach them where they belonged.

"I don't know," he said, narrowing his eyes in deep thought. All of the things Puck had suggested seemed pretty harsh. Slushies would leave Kurt soaked through for the day. Being locked inside a locker had to be torture and swirlies were most definitely not pleasant. But Blaine had to choose, because if he didn't, that meant Karofsky would and he would choose the most painful, horrible method. "Slushie machine?"

"Boring," Karofsky said, face twisting. "I say locker."

"How about," Puck said, with a smile. "We lock him in here," he thumped the locker and Kurt jumped again and so did Blaine. "And we go get rid of his scarf so that he has to go round all day, showing off that big, ugly, gay hickey?"

Kurt's pale face was paler than ever. He turned his eyes on Blaine, almost pleading with him to do something. Blaine looked away. There was nothing he could do, this had to be done.

"Sure," Blaine shrugged, his mouth developing into a faux smile.

* * *

><p>Blaine pulled the scarf out of the garbage once Puck and Karofsky had gone to class. It was covered in food. He grimaced as he walked back to the hallway where his locker stood. He felt beyond sick now and the smell of spaghetti, or whatever that was was not helping in the least. This was easily the worst week of his life and he'd had some pretty bad weeks. He opened his locker, trying to push away the memories of the night before and just <em>everything <em>that had gone so horribly wrong lately. He shoved the dirty scarf inside and slammed his locker shut. Then he heard the banging sounds coming from behind him.

_Kurt._

He moved forward and pulled the locker door open, knowing he should probably leave him in there, just in case Puck or Karofsky found out, but he couldn't stand there and listen to him thumping away from the inside. He told himself it was because he was worried Kurt would tell people what had happened if he didn't let him out, but deep down he knew that wasn't the reason. The reason was that he was weak these days, he didn't want to do this any more, even though he knew it was what he was supposed to do, but sometimes he just wanted to not be that guy, the one everyone feared and loathed, he just wanted to get through his senior year without any problems and so far, that wasn't working out too well for him.

Blaine stood back and Kurt climbed out, looking distraught and as if he couldn't really breathe properly. The lockers were tight fitted spaces, of course he would have problems breathing.

"Uh," Blaine said, awkwardly. "Are you, y'know, okay and all that?"

"I'm just dandy, Blaine," Kurt said, angrily, brushing his clothes off. Blaine's eyes found the hickey again and he felt himself blushing, remembering that he had been the one to put it there. That sinking feeling in his stomach was more prominent than ever now. "Now get the hell away from me before I say something I'm going to regret."

Blaine got out of there fast.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm going to try my best to update again tomorrow, but I have exams starting Monday, so I have studying to do, but I'll definitely try! Let me know what you thought! :)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, longer chapter, because I might not be able to update daily for the next few days, due to exams. I own nothing, obviously. This might be my favourite chapter so far (and my friend, Rebecca told me it's her favourite, too), so hopefully you all like it! I have a little bit of canon in here, because it just worked with the story, but I made it a bit worse (sorry Karofsky, I promise I don't hate you, I just had to do it). So, enjoy, hopefully!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7:<strong>

Blaine was avoiding him. Not that Kurt minded, particularly, because he was mad at him. And it wasn't just a whim, Kurt was really mad at him for allowing what he did in what he claimed was 'his school'. He could have stopped it, Kurt knew that. The problem was that he _wouldn't _stop it and mostly because he believed that he couldn't. Kurt could see right through him. He was afraid. He didn't want people to think he was a nice guy, he wanted to be seen as a threat, because that was how he gained respect. It was also the only way he knew how to be.

Kurt had spent a lot of time thinking about it. A week passed and Blaine still hadn't spoken to him. During English, they ignored one another. Kurt used this time to think. Blaine obviously had some kind of emotional problem, whether it had to do with his parents, or his grades, or whatever else. He also had sexuality issues, obviously. Kurt didn't think he was ready to admit that, though. Maybe he never would be. From what Mercedes and the others in glee club told him, Blaine and Quinn had been an item for two years and it looked serious. Kurt didn't point out that Blaine, at least, obviously wasn't taking it very seriously if he had cheated on Quinn with him, but he was thinking it all the while.

Kurt was angry at Blaine, but try as he did, he didn't hate him—_couldn't _hate him. It was strange. Kurt found himself trying to figure Blaine out and thinking about him far more often than he really should have done. He liked Blaine, in some twisted way. Maybe he was a masochist. He didn't know. Blaine was an asshole and he treated Kurt like crap, but Kurt couldn't help but think back to how gentle he'd been when he'd first kissed him, how he'd uttered his name so quietly and how his heart had been beating so fast against Kurt's back that night. Kurt had tried to push it away, the memory of that night, but he couldn't. It wasn't going to go away, regardless of what he did and he didn't want to think of Blaine like this, he wanted to hate him, wanted to tell him to stay away from him, wanted to go to Mrs Flynn and beg her to reassign him a partner, but he couldn't do any of that.

He told himself then that he would make Blaine a sort of project. He wouldn't tell Blaine that, of course, but he would try to work him out and understand why he was the way he was. At least then he might have an excuse for not hating him. Beyond doing that, he wasn't really sure what else he could do. He wouldn't even try to help him, because Blaine clearly didn't want anyone to help him, but he would try to understand. Except Blaine was avoiding him, which left Kurt right back at square one. He was far too stubborn to be the first one to break the newly formed ice, so he would have to wait until Blaine got down off his high horse to do anything.

It was exactly a week and three days before that happened.

* * *

><p>Blaine didn't understand why he was feeling what he was feeling. He still couldn't rid his stomach of that nagging, empty feeling and he had figured out why. He didn't understand it, but he'd figured it out. It had occurred to him while he was at Quinn's house and she was placing sloppy kisses on his neck. He stared up at the white ceiling and just blanked for a while. He and Quinn hadn't made up following the party incident, instead, Quinn had simply put it behind them and acted as if nothing had ever happened. Blaine didn't argue, because Quinn was the one everyone expected him to be with and on top of that, he hated fighting with her, not because he loved her so much that he never wanted any uneasy feeling between them, but because she was sort of irritating and he didn't need any more nagging than he was already enduring.<p>

It struck him at that moment that the reason all of this was happening was Kurt Hummel. He wasn't sure why exactly, but he had figured out that it had only happened after Kurt had arrived at McKinley and most of the time, it got really bad when he was in his presence. He had accepted that he didn't like hurting Kurt, he just hadn't figured out why until now and the reason was that _he liked him. _And Blaine didn't just like Kurt, he really liked him and in ways that he had never liked anyone else. Yes, he had a twisted way of showing it, but frankly, that wasn't a bad thing, because he didn't want to show it at all.

Blaine had never had any reason to believe he was gay, nor had he ever given himself any reason to believe he was straight. If he was honest, he had never really been attracted to anyone, not really. Sure, the odd person here and there when he'd been a lot younger, but that hadn't happened in a long time. There had been girls before Quinn, but he'd really only dated them to keep up with the other guys who seemed to have a different girlfriend every other week. The fact was that Blaine had never really addressed his sexuality completely. Of course, like all teenagers, he'd experienced the thought w_hat if I'm gay?, _but he had never really and truly thought it out. He'd dismissed it the second he'd thought it, all those years ago, because he couldn't be gay, he was Blaine Anderson and things like that didn't happen to people like Blaine Anderson.

Now, with Quinn's body pressed to his, it was a whole new kettle of fish. He'd thought a lot about what had happened between himself and Kurt and the more he thought about it, the more the panic seemed to flit away. It was still there, of course, because the idea of being gay, or even bi, was terrifying to him. His father would have a heart attack and he would be instantly considered a social pariah and he couldn't handle either of those things, so he decided the only thing to do was to push it away. That way, it might just go away. Except it didn't and he refused to accept it.

Then he'd started over-thinking it. He couldn't be gay, because things like that didn't happen to people like Blaine. He would grow up, get into a good college, marry Quinn, get a good job and start a family. His future was mapped out for him and Kurt Hummel was obviously just some sort of phase. Perhaps he had mistaken real friendship for something more, simply because the people he called his friends, weren't anything like friends were supposed to be. That had to be it. That was his story and he was sticking to it.

After football practice on Thursday after school, Blaine had walked back to his locker to pick up his books and that was when he bumped into Kurt. They had stopped still in the hallway and just stared at each other for a moment and Blaine couldn't help feeling a bit relieved that Kurt hadn't simply spun on his heel and walked away. Even if he didn't believe he liked Kurt in ways that he shouldn't, he still sort of wanted to be friends with him, or at least go back to the strained friendship they'd had already. Besides, their assignment was suffering. Mrs Flynn had assigned the cultural context paper, just as Blaine had expected, yet he and Kurt hadn't even begun yet.

Blaine was the first to speak.

"Hey," was all he said.

Kurt just stood there, blue eyes wide. He was wearing really tight pants again and Blaine couldn't help remembering what he'd looked like without those pants. He shook his head, trying to get rid of that image.

"What are you, um, doing here, so late?" Blaine asked.

"Glee club," Kurt provided and Blaine nodded. To Blaine's surprise, Kurt went on. "I, um, forgot some things in my locker."

"Oh," Blaine said and instantly felt dumb for not knowing what else to say. He wanted to talk to him, he just didn't know how.

Blaine watched as Kurt began to walk towards his locker in silence. Blaine followed.

"So, um, our 'Jane Eyre' paper.." Blaine trailed off, unsure of how he should finish that sentence. He ignored the empty feeling in his stomach as he tried to think of what else to say, but Kurt spoke first.

"Yeah," he said, as he began to twist the lock on his locker door. "We should probably get on that, huh?"

"Yeah," Blaine said. He watched Kurt for another while, as he twisted his combination lock over and over, sighing every time the locker didn't click open. Finally, he reached across to help, but his hand landed on Kurt's. Kurt's eyes met his and neither of them budged for a long time. Blaine kept his eyes locked with Kurt's baby blues, unable to look away. He could hear his heart beating in his chest and a lump had formed in his throat, leaving him incapable of speech. His hand was still on Kurt's and neither of them had made any move to break contact. Blaine's mind was spinning because this was what was not supposed to happen, it was something he definitely did not want to happen. But he couldn't pull away, his body wouldn't allow it and at that moment, his mind betrayed him and forgot the difference between right and wrong and all he could do was stand there.

Kurt didn't look away, either. He wore a blank expression and Blaine couldn't tell what he was feeling. It was Kurt who tried to speak first.

"Blaine, I—"

* * *

><p>One minute Kurt had been speaking, trying to tell Blaine.. something (he wasn't sure what exactly, but speaking had felt like the right thing to do), and the next minute, Blaine had shoved him up against his locker and pressed his lips against his. Kurt gasped when his back hit the cool, hard locker, but then forgot about it, because Blaine's tongue had shot past his lips and plunged through his teeth and had found a rhythm with his own tongue. Kurt didn't know why it was happening, he just knew that, despite the fact that this was Blaine Anderson, the guy who had been treating him like crap since the first day he'd entered McKinley High, he didn't want it to stop and it frightened him a little bit that he could feel this way about someone who put him through hell.<p>

Then he felt how softly Blaine's lips were pressing against his own and how gently his hands were clutching his shoulders and he was reminded of the Blaine that had spent the night with him the previous week.

"I'm mad at you," Kurt whispered once Blaine had moved back an inch or two.

"Are you?" Blaine asked. Kurt caught the small smile dancing on the corners of Blaine's lips and couldn't resist smiling himself. Blaine inched forward a little so that his lips were brushing Kurt's again. "How mad?" he breathed, breath warm on Kurt's mouth.

"I can't remember," Kurt told him, truthfully.

"That's what I thought," Blaine said, succumbing to the smile, before covering Kurt's mouth with his again.

Was this the real Blaine Anderson? And if so, what did Kurt have to do to convince him it was okay to just be himself?

* * *

><p>Blaine kissed him again when they met up to work on their paper. He'd kissed him when they left the library and then again when they stopped at a red light on the way home. Neither of them understood it entirely, but they both wanted it, so why stop?<p>

After the fourth time, it began to feel sort of normal. Kurt liked this side of Blaine and as much as he hated that it was happening, he was sort of falling for him, against his own better judgment, of course. So, for a while, he didn't dare discuss their little arrangement for fear of it all becoming too real, thus coming to an end.

Except the fact that it was happening kept playing on his mind. Blaine was straight, or at least claimed to be. He had a girlfriend, he was still treating him like crap in front of his friends and every time they kissed, Blaine seemed to act as if it hadn't happened, or like it hadn't meant a thing. Kurt felt as if it was time to ask questions, find out what this was.

One day while they were at the library working on their paper, Kurt asked him about it.

"Blaine."

"Hmm?" Blaine asked, as he searched through his book for something, eyebrows furrowed in the centre.

"Do you think you might be gay?"

Blaine's eyes shot up, then and the book fell from his hands, causing him to lose his page. He didn't look as if he cared about that, though.

"Wh-what?"

"Do you think you might be gay?" Kurt repeated.

"Of course not," Blaine shook his head. "Why would I be gay?"

Kurt didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow and Blaine looked nervous. Kurt didn't want to push him because he knew what it was like to be afraid because of who you were.

"What about Quinn?"

He looked distressed now.

"What about her?" he asked, golden eyes darting around.

"You're cheating on her."

"No, I'm no—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, over him. "If you're making out with someone that is not your girlfriend, it means you're cheating on your girlfriend."

This seemed to be news to Blaine. He dropped his chin and stared down at the table. Kurt wondered if it would be weird if he leaned across and laid a hand over his, after all, they'd had their tongues in one another's mouths. But he didn't do it, because Blaine was still Blaine and even if he wasn't as bad when it was just the two of them, he was still on the defence most of the time.

"Do you love her?"

"What?" Blaine asked, looking up. He looked a bit stunned.

"Quinn," Kurt clarified. "Do you love her?"

Blaine was silent for a while, his eyes back on the table in front of him.

"She's my girlfriend," he muttered with a lazy shrug.

"That's not what I asked," Kurt pointed out.

"She.." Blaine trailed off, searching for words. "She's hard to love."

"So, no," Kurt nodded.

Blaine didn't argue. It gave Kurt an inexplicable thrill to hear him clarify that. He shook his head.  
>"So, why are you even with her?"<p>

Blaine kept his eyes on the table for a few seconds, his hand clutching a pen. His fist was clenched around it and Kurt watched as the pen burst and blue ink exploded all over Blaine's hand and the table in front of him. He raised his head then. He looked pained.

"Why do you care?" he asked, grimacing down at his ink-covered hands.

"I don't care," Kurt sighed, pulling a small packet of tissues from the side pocket of his bag. He handed them to Blaine. "I just thought you could use someone to talk to. It certainly seems like you do," he said, gesturing to the pieces of pen on the table.

Blaine wiped the ink away and left the blotted tissues on the table in front of him.

"If I tell you something about me," Blaine began raising his eyes to Kurt's. "You've got to tell me something about you."

Kurt shrugged.

"That's fair."

Blaine nodded and looked thoughtful for a couple of seconds. He had dropped his gaze from Kurt's and he was fidgeting with the pieces of broken pen.

"Quinn is.." he trailed off and shook his head. "I'm supposed to be with Quinn. She.. I mean, we—Quinn and I—we're.."

"The power couple or something, right?"

Blaine nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, something like that. It's like.. I'm Blaine Anderson, so I'm supposed to be dating Quinn Fabray, you know?"

It was messed up, but Kurt understood.

"And if you didn't?"

Blaine looked uncomfortable. He'd looked uncomfortable to begin with, but now he looked like he wanted to cover his head and never come out again.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "My dad wouldn't be happy."

Kurt opened his mouth to ask Blaine something, then closed it again.

"What?" Blaine asked.

He eyed him for a moment, then spoke.

"At Puck's party," Kurt said. "Quinn said something about.. your dad beating you up."

Blaine nodded and clasped his hands together.

"Oh."

"You don't have to tell me," Kurt assured him.

Blaine stayed silent for a while. Kurt watched him, tried to work out what he was thinking.

"It's okay," Blaine said, finally. "Yeah, he's done it before."

"For what reasons?" Kurt asked, hoping he wasn't going too far.

Blaine was twisting his fingers uncomfortably and he still looked like he was in pain, but Kurt wanted to know. He wanted to understand why Blaine was the way he was. He shouldn't have cared, he should have just stayed away from him and ignored him, because Blaine was a jerk most of the time, but he couldn't do that, he simply couldn't.

"Grades, if he thinks I haven't tried hard enough at football, if I come home drunk," he glanced at Kurt then, probably looking for a reaction, but Kurt just watched him, trying not to show the pity he was feeling. "Just whenever he feels like it, really."

"And your mom?" Kurt asked. "She doesn't say anything?"

Blaine looked even more uncomfortable, then, even though Kurt didn't think that was possible.

"My mom.. she's on a lot of meds," he explained. "I don't know what she's got, but she was pretty depressed for a while and now she's mostly just out of it."

Kurt wasn't sure what he should say to that. Saying he was sorry seemed stupid. They just sat there in silence for a while and for once, it wasn't awkward.

"So, why are you telling me all this?" Kurt asked, finally.

Blaine looked up at him, eyes wide.

"Because you asked," he shrugged.

"But you didn't _have _to tell me," Kurt said. "I don't understand you most of the time."

"What do you mean?" Blaine asked, quietly.

"I mean," Kurt said. "You're like this sometimes. All straight up and.. vulnerable, I guess. And then you're kissing me," Blaine flinched a bit at that. "And you're sort of.. nice to me, when the others aren't around. Why?"

Blaine didn't say anything. So Kurt went on.

"You're still an asshole, Blaine. I mean, you've gotten better, when it's just us, but at school you're an absolute idiot. At the beginning, when we started this partnership, whatever, you were always on the defence, hiding behind these walls you built up around yourself. You've torn them down a little bit, but that doesn't make up for what you do to me—and other kids—at school. I can't decide if I like you or hate you."

"You hate me?" Blaine asked, hazel eyes wide and questioning.

"Should I?" Kurt asked, with a shrug.

"Yeah," Blaine sighed, looking down at his hands. "You're supposed to hate me. I'm supposed to hate you. We're supposed to hate each other."

"But?"

"But we don't, do we?" Blaine asked, his face a mask of worry. "I mean, at least I don't _think _you hate me. Sometimes I think you must. Sometimes when we're at school and you're scowling at me and sending off those 'come-near-me-and-you'll-die' vibes, I think that you do hate me. You have every right to, I guess."

"I do have every right to," Kurt agreed. "But I don't hate you."

He wasn't lying, either. He didn't hate Blaine. He hated the things that Blaine _did, _but he didn't hate Blaine himself.

"You don't?" That seemed to surprise Blaine.

"No," Kurt affirmed. "I just think you need to be who you really are, rather than that someone that everyone expects you to be."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," Kurt told him. "Maybe it'll take a while for you to realise that, but you can."

Blaine gave a small inclination of his head, as he continued to stare down at the table. Then he looked up, like he had remembered he wasn't supposed to get vulnerable.

"You never told me anything about you."

Kurt shrugged and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.

"What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you want to tell me, I guess."

Kurt didn't know where to begin, really. He thought about it for a little while, then decided, basing his decision on the fact that Blaine was still an asshole and although he didn't want to hurt him, exactly, he wanted to make him feel at least a little bit guilty.

"When I was at my old school, I got bullied every day," he watched as Blaine shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "It started off like it is now, name calling, shoving, getting stuffed in lockers and thrown in dumpsters, but then it got worse."

"How much worse?" Blaine asked in a choked voice. He looked as if he hadn't really wanted to ask, but had forced himself to.

"Like I said before, broken bones, blood, all that," Kurt shrugged. "That was pretty bad, but do you want to know what the worst part is?"

Blaine gave a small nod.

"The worst part is when you have to see your dad look at you with piteous eyes because you're a victim," Kurt said. "When you see the hurt in his eyes, because he didn't know, because he didn't do anything about it. And then you watch him get mad and you feel like you've done something wrong, when in reality, you haven't. The bullies are in the wrong, not you. But you feel like you are, because you've caused your father to feel all these things."

"Kurt, I didn't kno—"

"And then he had heart problems," Kurt went on, not caring that there were tears welling in his eyes. This had begun as a means of making Blaine feel bad, but in the process, he was reliving it and hurting himself. "And I know the worry and the stress caused it. Sure, he wasn't eating healthily, or exercising enough, but I know. _I know._ I know that everything with me made things worse and that's the worst part, Blaine. I can't let that happen again."

Kurt watched through blurred vision as Blaine took the packet of tissues and pulled one out, before offering it to Kurt. He took it and dabbed at his eyes, cursing himself for crying in front of Blaine Anderson.

"I'm sorry."

Kurt looked up in surprise, his cyan eyes shining and wide.

"Wh—what?" Kurt asked, a little stunned.

Blaine folded his arms and looked uneasy. He spoke again, a little louder this time.

"I'm sorry," Blaine repeated and he looked as if he meant it. "I'm sorry that this is happening to you again. I just—I don't know what I can do, Kurt. And I want to do something, I do. You don't know what it's like for me. I can't just stand back and not do anything. Everything will fall apart. I can't, I just.."

Blaine trailed off, shaking his head, looking distraught. Kurt studied him and he could tell he meant it, that he was internally conflicted and afraid and all of those things he would never admit to being.

"I get it," Kurt told him. "I get that you're afraid, Blaine."

This time, Blaine didn't object or deny that he was afraid. He simply sat still, staring at Kurt with those wide, golden orbs.

"I know you're afraid of losing all these things, Blaine and I understand, to an extent," Kurt told him. "I just think that you can still succeed in life without all of this," Kurt gestured at Blaine sitting there in his letterman jacket, with his gelled hair and his clenched jaw. "You don't have to be this, Blaine. I know you can't see that now, but it's true."

Blaine was staring off into space now, his eyes wide, his mouth set into a tight line. He looked as if he wanted to cry and Kurt felt his stomach sinking. Just as it was nice to see a beautiful boy smile, it was heart breaking to watch him cry. Kurt waited a minute, then cleared his throat.

"So, um, where did you stop on the question list?" Kurt enquired, changing the subject.

"Um," Blaine looked flustered as he looked down at the loose sheets on the table. He rummaged through them and then squinted down at one. "Talk about Rochester's personality," he read.

"So, talk about Rochester's personality," Kurt smiled.

"Rochester was a pervert," Blaine said, simply.

"A pervert?" Kurt asked. "Why?"

Blaine shook his head and laid the paper down.

"Well, aside from the whole 'secret wife locked in the attic' fiasco," Blaine explained. "He was, like, 20 years older than Jane."

"Just because your love interest is 20 years younger than you, doesn't mean you're a pervert," Kurt shook his head.

"Oh, yeah?" Blaine raised a thick brow. "What does it mean, then?"

Kurt sighed and sat back in his chair.

"It just means," Kurt began. "That you don't get to choose who you fall in love with, it just happens, regardless of how different you are, it just happens and there's nothing you can do about it."

* * *

><p>Kurt could see Blaine standing a little further away as Karofsky lifted him off his feet. He shot Blaine a look of disapproval, before he was flung inside the dumpster. He climbed to his feet, just as Karofsky walked away laughing to himself. Blaine was still standing there, his mouth down turned and his eyes wide and sad. He gave Kurt an apologetic look as he climbed out of the bin. Kurt brushed his clothes off and gave Blaine his best scowl, before stalking off to the bathroom to clean himself up.<p>

* * *

><p>Blaine waited until the halls were completely clear, before he pushed the bathroom door open and walked inside. Kurt was standing by the sinks, grimacing at the scarf he was wringing out under the running faucet. He looked up when Blaine walked in and rolled his eyes in response.<p>

"I'm sorry," Blaine told him, truthfully.

He was sorry, too, really sorry, especially since Kurt had told him what had happened to him before. He figured there wasn't much point in pretending any more, not when Kurt seemed to understand what he was dealing with.

"Yeah, so you keep saying," Kurt sighed.

"I mean it, though. I am sorry," he told him, moving closer. Blaine took a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and ran them under the running water. He raised them and wiped at the large mayonnaise stain on Kurt's forearm. Kurt jerked back a bit.

"I can handle this on my own," he said. "I've had enough practice, after all."

Blaine sighed and began to dab at the stain again.

"Look, I'm trying to help you, here," he said and Kurt didn't move away this time.

After a long silence, Kurt moved away an inch and Blaine dropped his hand. Kurt looked at him with those bright, blue-green eyes and sighed, tiredly.

"Thanks, okay?" he muttered.

"You shouldn't be thanking me," Blaine said, throwing the paper towels towards the bin and missing.

"I know," Kurt said, bending to pick them up. He threw them into the bin. "I shouldn't be doing a lot of things with you, but I'm still doing them."

Blaine smiled a bit, because, even though he still didn't really understand why Kurt was talking to him and not hating him and _kissing _him—especially kissing him—he still couldn't help how he was around him. Yes, the empty feeling and the dread was still in the pit of his stomach and yes, his head still spun a little every time he was near him, but he still sort of liked Kurt, even if he didn't like him in _that _way. Blaine was straight and these things were happening and he didn't know why, but he didn't know how to stop and sometimes, he didn't even want to stop.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, allowing his eyes to sweep over Kurt, from his head, down to his combat boots. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Kurt shook his head and Blaine smiled when he saw a piece of diced onion stuck in his hair. He reached up and began to untangle it from his sand-brown hair and Kurt moved back a little. "What are you—"

"Onion," Blaine told him and Kurt stopped moving and allowed Blaine to remove it. He smiled and held it up for Kurt to see.

"Ew," Kurt shuddered.

Blaine flung it in the bin, not missing this time, then looked back at Kurt. They looked at each other for a couple of heart beats, staying silent, then Blaine gave in and leaned across. He pressed his mouth to Kurt's tasting coffee and banana. He felt Kurt's lips developing into a smile against his own as he pushed him gently back against the wall, deepening the kiss. Kurt raised his arms, slowly and entwined them around Blaine's neck, as Blaine's moved his to encompass Kurt's waist.

Blaine's heart was beating manically in his chest as he remembered he hadn't locked the door. If someone walked in, he would be ruined. But he couldn't pull away, because it felt so good being so close to Kurt, even if he didn't understand why. Or maybe he did understand, he just didn't want to.

Kurt pulled back first with a small murmur.

"That's one of those things I shouldn't be doing with you, but I do anyway," he whispered, smiling slightly.

Blaine chuckled. They were still wrapped up in one another.

"Tell me about it," he said.

"I got ketchup on your sleeve," Kurt told him. "That's your punishment for letting these bad things happen to me."

Blaine glanced down at the stain on his sleeve, then looked back up into Kurt's cerulean blues.

"Worth it," he exhaled. He hoped Kurt hadn't heard him, but he had. Kurt smirked and opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine moved forward and closed the gap between their lips, swallowing his words.

* * *

><p>"What the hell, Karofsky?" Kurt shouted.<p>

One minute he'd been walking down the corridor, minding his own business and the next, he was being shoved inside the janitor's closet, by two giant-sized hands.

"Don't talk back to me, Hummel!" Karofsky growled, shoving Kurt hard against the wall.

The room was dimly lit by a small bulb hanging over head. It was filled with old paint cans and electrical tape and several frayed wires. It smelled like paint fumes and dust. Kurt shuddered at the thought of just how filthy his clothes were going to be afterwards.

"I wasn't talking back to you," Kurt said. "How could I talk back to you when you hadn't even spoken yet?"

"Do not get smart with me, Hummel!" Karofsky shouted, his thick fingers moving to grip Kurt's thin arms. He would be covered in finger shaped bruises come night fall.

"I wouldn't have to say anything too clever for you to consider me smart, Karofsky," Kurt said and instantly regretted it. Getting smart only meant things would worsen but he was so mad, he couldn't stand back and say nothing. "I mean, you're not exactly the brightest pea in the pod, are you?"

Karofsky made a loud groaning sound as he shoved Kurt harder, his left hand gripping Kurt's side and pushing him hard against the wall.

"Why are you like this, huh?" Karofsky asked, eyes narrowed. He looked psychotic and Kurt couldn't describe it any other way. "Why are you so gay? Why do you walk around swinging your little girl hips and wearing all this fucking glittery stuff? Why?"

Kurt said nothing, because there was something in Karofsky's eyes, something he hadn't seen in the eyes of any of his former bullies before and frankly, it sort of terrified him. He glanced around the room, eyes lingering on the electrical tape and the wires and he really, really hoped the janitor would get back soon, because right now, Karofsky looked entirely capable of murder and this was probably the perfect location to do it.

"You need to stop doing all that!" Karofsky shouted and Kurt flinched a bit. "You need to stop being so gay around me because it makes me crazy! I feel like punching you every single time I see you!"

Kurt closed his eyes, then, because he assumed Karofsky was actually going to punch him, but it never came. Instead of a fist, Kurt felt Karofsky's breath coming hard and fast against his face and then Karofsky's mouth was crashing against his own, their teeth colliding and Kurt pulled back and screamed, because he didn't know what else to do. He didn't scream for long, though, because Karofsky's mouth was back against his again and his large hands were pinning him against the wall and he wasn't strong enough to push him away.

Kurt tried to thump on the door with his fist, but he wasn't making much progress. His heart was palpitating in his chest and he felt the warm, salty tears escaping from his eyes even though he told himself he wouldn't cry. Then Karofsky's body was coming closer to his and he felt panic soaring through his veins. He wasn't sure what gave him the strength to do it, whether it was the adrenaline or something else, he didn't know, but he bit down hard on Karofsky's lip, causing him to pull back and curse at him. Kurt screamed as loud as he could and Karofsky looked scared, like he didn't know what to do.

"Sh-shut _up, _Hummel!" he said, sounding strangled. His eyes were darting around and then he looked as if he'd gotten an idea. He moved forward and covered Kurt's mouth with his again, stifling his scream.

* * *

><p>Blaine stopped still. He'd heard it, he wasn't crazy. Someone was screaming and the sound sent chills down his spine. He swung around and listened, trying to decipher where it had come from. The screaming stopped and he strained to hear for it again. Then he heard a shuffling sound coming from his right hand side.<p>

The janitor's closet.

He didn't think, he simply went across the hall and pulled the door open. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

"What the fuck, Karofsky?" Blaine exploded, pulling Karofsky off of a struggling Kurt. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Karofsky looked frustrated and angry and Blaine wanted to punch his lights out. Before he had the chance, Karofsky groaned and pushed the door open and ran off down the hallway. Blaine turned to look at Kurt, who had slid down the wall and covered his face with his hands.

Blaine fell to his knees and pulled Kurt's hands away gently.

"Kurt," he said, softly. "Kurt, I—" he broke off, not sure what to say.

Kurt's face was tear stained and his eyes were wide and filled with terror. His hands were shaking in Blaine's grasp.

"Kurt, I'm sorry," he said, finally, because he didn't know what else to say. "I—he shouldn't have—he had no right to do that—it was wrong—"

"Why?" Kurt semi-shouted, his face twisted angrily. "He just did exactly what you've been doing for the past few weeks, Blaine!"

Blaine stared at him as he tore his hands out of his and stood up. Blaine stood, too.

"Don't stand there and tell me what's right and what's _wrong, _Blaine," Kurt said, voice cracking a bit, tears still coming from his shining blue eyes. "You and him? You're no different. _You're exactly the same_!"

Kurt pushed past him and walked out the door. Blaine followed and shouted after him.

"Kurt, you're not in any state to be on your own!" he said, not even thinking about the fact that there were people in class. "I'll come with you and hel—"

"Stay away from me, Blaine," Kurt shouted, not even glancing back at him.

Blaine stood there and watched him go and he felt worse than he had ever felt in all his seventeen years of living.

* * *

><p><strong>I left you with a bit of angst there at the end, sorry! I'm going to start the next chapter right now, so that I can maybe get it up tomorrow. Tell me what you thought! :D<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**6.11am and I literally just finished writing this. I own nothing (still). The song in this chapter is the song that the title comes from, Sideways by Citizen Cope (again, thank you to Rebecca [marvel-0us] for that one (check out her Klaine fic Man in the Mirror, I really love where it's going). Thank you for the reviews, I was not expecting that AT ALL. I literally was expecting nothing, so this is very surreal, but I'm so grateful and I love you all. I haven't got anything to say, so read on :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8:<strong>

Blaine didn't think he would feel as awful as he did. Somehow, not talking to Kurt following the issue with Karofsky was worse than not talking to him before. He hated it. He hated sitting next to him in English and watching him out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see if he would look in his direction. He never did. Not unless you counted the scowls he sent him every now and then.

The Karofsky issue was also confusing. Karofsky was easily the most homophobic person Blaine knew, maybe even worse than Blaine's dad. Blaine's mind was working overtime, trying to work everything out. Then he started to think of crazy things. He thought about the fact that he himself had kissed Kurt (and there was the other stuff, but he didn't like to think about that) and the fact that Karofsky had kissed Kurt, and he wondered if the problem was _Kurt. _Neither he nor Karofsky had ever displayed any signs of being gay before Kurt's arrival.

Then he realised it was a ridiculous theory. It wasn't Kurt's fault. Obviously, Karofsky was hiding something. But did that mean Blaine was hiding something, too?

He pushed that thought aside, because thinking about Kurt and their situation made his head hurt. He needed to figure out a way to get Kurt to talk to him again, but he had no idea how. He still wasn't sure why he wanted to talk to him so badly. He told himself that it was because he needed him for the assignments and that if he didn't get an A, his dad would be livid. However, he knew, deep down, that that wasn't the reason. He liked Kurt, he'd accepted that, to an extent and that was why he wanted to talk to him.

Blaine watched Kurt across the lunch room as he laughed with those losers from glee club. Berry was scowling and telling them to quieten down. No one listened, of course. No one ever listened to Berry. Sam Evans had his face twisted and was talking out of the corner of his mouth. The guy was always doing those stupid impressions, even in the locker room after football. Santana Lopez stared blankly at him as Brittany S. Pierce laughed. Blaine didn't remember the rest of their names.

Kurt was laughing at something Mercedes Jones was telling him. Mercedes was in Blaine's math class, that was the only reason he knew her name. Blaine scowled and tore his eyes away from Kurt and instead, looked down at his lunch. He couldn't eat another bite, just looking at it was making him feel sick. He stood up.

"Where are you going?" Puckerman asked, beside him.

"Bathroom," he shrugged and lifted his tray.

He left it on a trolley and walked out the door and into the empty halls. He turned the corner and Coach Sylvester was standing by the choir room, holding a glue gun.

"You're not supposed to be roaming the halls, Anderson!" she shouted at him.

"Bathroom," he provided.

"Oh," she said. "Well, you didn't see me here and if you say otherwise I'll deny it and have you tried for treason."

Blaine twisted his face in confusion and looked at what she was doing.

"Are you.. _you're gluing the choir room door_?" he asked.

"Are you going to stand there stating the obvious, dwarf?" she asked, as she continued to squirt the glue into the crack of the door. "Move it along! I have a glee club to destroy and you have a bladder that's going to explode if you don't get yourself to a toilet!"

Blaine gaped at her for another moment, then shrugged and continued on down the hall. He stopped still when he reached the end of the corridor. Kurt was in glee club. Blaine rushed around the corner to the bulletin board and squinted his eyes until he saw it.

_**NEW DIRECTIONS!**_

_**LOOKING FOR NEW MEMBERS!**_

_**GLEE, BY ITS VERY DEFINITION, IS ABOUT OPENING YOURSELF UP TO JOY!**_

_**AUDITIONS ON TODAY AFTER SCHOOL IN THE CHOIR ROOM!**_

Blaine stared at it for a long time. The audition list below was empty, as always. He chewed nervously on his bottom lip, then he did it. He took the pen in his shaking hands and scribbled his name at the top of the empty sheet of paper.

_Blaine Anderson._

He had no idea what his plan was, but Kurt was in glee club and that meant he would have a better chance of him talking to him. He walked away, heart thumping far too quickly against his ribcage and feeling a little bit ill, but he also felt a burst of relief running through his body. Maybe this was a step towards redemption.

* * *

><p>"Rachel, calm down," Mr Schuester said, holding up his hands. "It's just glue, we'll have this open in no time!"<p>

"But you said we had a possible new member auditioning! What if this scares them off? We need all the students we can get to sing back up to me!"

"Rachel," Mercedes deadpanned. "Shut up."

"Okay!" Mr Schuester said, voice going an octave higher. "The janitor's here!"

The mention of the janitor brought back images of the incident in the janitor's closet to Kurt's mind. He shivered and tried to push away that hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"You know, this had to be Coach Sylvester's doing!" Rachel pointed out and even though everyone knew that was true, they all groaned, because Rachel never knew how to keep her mouth shut. They waited until the janitor had pried the door open, before piling inside and taking their seats.

"Okay!" Mr Schue said, clasping his hands together at the front of the room. "I couldn't actually _read _the name on the sheet, it looked as if it had been written in a hurry! But—"

"You couldn't read the name?" Rachel exploded standing up out of her seat. "Mr Schuester! What if it was simply someone defacing the sign up sheet! Are there rude words on there?"

"Rachel, sit down," Mr Schue said, patiently. "It's a name, I just had trouble reading it, but—"

There was a light rap on the door and everyone looked towards it. Kurt's eyes widened when he saw the letterman jacket and the gelled hair and the worried eyes. The others started whispering and protesting. Mr Schue quietened the class and turned to look at the boy standing in the doorway.

"Blaine, can I help you with something?"

Blaine looked more uncomfortable than Kurt had ever seen him look. Actually that wasn't true. Kurt thought back to the morning after Puck's party. That had definitely been the most uncomfortable Kurt had ever seen Blaine, this was just a close second.

"Yeah, _Blaine, _are you lost?" Rachel exclaimed from her seat.

Blaine ignored her and looked at Mr Schue.

"Um, I, uh, signed up for a—um, audition," he said, eyes finding the ground.

The students began whispering again and Mr Schue hushed them. Kurt said nothing, just stared at Blaine, trying to figure out if this was some kind of prank. He knew, deep down, that it wasn't, but he couldn't understand what was going on.

"Oh, well, that's great!" Mr Schue grinned, happily.

"Mr Schuester, this is a bad, bad, _bad _ide—"

"Rachel," Mr Schuester said in a warning tone. "You know we need more students for sectionals! Let's give Blaine a chance!"

It seemed like a lot of people were giving Blaine chances, even if he didn't really deserve them. Maybe it was his face that made people behave the way they did around him.

"Blaine, do you have a song you could sing?"

Kurt didn't know why, but it just occurred to him then that Blaine would have to sing. _Could Blaine sing?_

He watched as Blaine spoke quietly to the band, then walked back to the centre of the room. He smoothened his hair back a little bit as the music started to play. Kurt had never heard this song before. Blaine was shifting his feet uncomfortably, his eyes staring off into vacant space. Then he started to sing.

_"You know it ain't easy,_

_For these thoughts here to leave me,_

_There's no words to describe it,_

_In French or in English."_

Kurt widened his eyes, because Blaine could sing. And he couldn't just sort of sing, he could _really _sing. His voice was sweet and he had good tone and suddenly he wanted to shake Blaine really, really hard and tell him he was doing all the wrong things with his life. How could he waste that voice? Why not showcase it to anyone and everyone?

_"Well, diamonds they fade,_

_And flowers they bloom,_

_And I'm telling you."_

Kurt watched as Blaine raised his eyes a little bit. His hazel orbs found Kurt's blue ones and he tilted his head a little bit, as if to say he was sorry. Kurt didn't move an inch, just listened to Blaine singing.

_"These feelings won't go away,_

_They've been knockin' me sideways,_

_They've been knockin' me out lately,_

_Whenever you come around me."_

Kurt could feel the atmosphere in the room. It was a cross between tension and wonderment. Kurt understood what everyone else was feeling, because this was a real shock. Blaine Anderson had a beautiful voice and he spent his time slushying people and shoving them against lockers.

On top of that, Blaine was staring at him, like he was singing to him. He couldn't be, obviously, because let's face it, this was Blaine Anderson. But Kurt felt something then and the lyrics triggered something in his mind and mother of God, Blaine Anderson was _singing to him. _Or so it seemed.

_"These feelings won't go away,_

_They've been knockin' me sideways,_

_I keep thinking in a moment that,_

_Time will take them away."_

Blaine tore his eyes away and Kurt watched as he dropped his gaze to the ground as he sang the final line.

_"But these feelings won't go away."_

The music faded out and everyone sat there in complete silence. Blaine kept his eyes on the ground, his hands sliding inside his pockets, awkwardly.

"That was—I mean, that was.." Rachel trialed off, lost for words for what had to be the first time in her entire life.

"Yeah, it was," Finn said, mouth hanging open, next to her.

"I think," Mr Schue said, leaning away from the piano. "That what everyone meant to say was welcome to glee club, Blaine! We're lucky to have you!"

"Um, thanks," Blaine muttered and took a seat in the front row.

Mr Schuester talked about sectionals and Rachel shouted her opinions at him while everyone else groaned in frustration. Kurt didn't even pay attention because all he could do was stare at Blaine sitting there, his shoulders squared, his entire body rigid. What was this boy all about? Just when Kurt thought he had him all figured out, he'd gone and done something like this.

Blaine Anderson was a mystery, but he would make it his mission to figure him out.

* * *

><p>"Hi."<br>Blaine turned away from his car and saw Kurt standing there after glee club. He was still a bit shaken up from having sung in front of all those people.

"Oh, hey," Blaine said, quickly.

Kurt gave small nod then spoke again. "So, um, my dad is fixing my car. Puncture. I told him I'd get a ride home with Mercedes, but I told her I was going to go work on our assignment with you."

"Oh."

"So, are you busy?"

"N-no, but I don't have my notes or anything—"

"That's okay," Kurt shook his head. Shadows from the trees were cast all across his hair, making it look a shade darker than it actually was. "I don't, either. I was thinking we could just—talk?" Kurt made it a question.

"Oh!" Blaine said, quickly. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

* * *

><p>"Your house is beautiful," Kurt gasped, staring out the car window at what was practically a mansion.<p>

"Um, thanks," Blaine said, quietly as he parked the car.

Blaine's house was huge. It was three storeys high and had a lot of windows. A long winding path lead up to the white door, small bushes on either side. The grass was green and obviously fake. It looked like the perfect house on the outside.

Kurt followed Blaine inside, feeling awkward and as if he had to be very careful. Everything in Blaine's house seemed so expensive. Kurt followed him upstairs and into what he assumed was Blaine's room.

"Are your parents—"

"My dad's never home," Blaine shook his head. "My mom's probably sleeping."

Kurt nodded and sat down on the edge of Blaine's bed. Blaine sat down, too, a little bit away from Kurt. His room was incredibly neat and not at all what Kurt had expected. It looked like a middle aged man's study. It was all dark browns and bottle greens and gave no clues to the fact that it belonged to a seventeen year old boy.

"So, um," Blaine said, shifting a little on the bed next to Kurt. "What did you, uh, want to talk about?"

* * *

><p>Blaine felt uncomfortable having Kurt in his room. He felt vulnerable and as if he was completely naked in public. He was anxious to know what Kurt wanted to talk about and this was the only place he knew he could bring him without the entire population of McKinley High finding out they were hanging out. He felt bad about it, there was no point pretending to himself that he didn't. He didn't necessarily want to hide the fact that they were kind of friends, he just knew that he had no other choice.<p>

"I wanted to apologise," Kurt said and Blaine looked up quickly.

"Wh—wait. _You _are apologising?" Blaine asked in an incredulous tone. "What do you have to apologise for?"

"I said you were exactly the same as Karofsky," Kurt explained, frowning a little bit. "You're not, you know."

Blaine hadn't liked that Kurt had said he was the same as Karofsky. Karofsky was an asshole and Blaine wasn't denying the fact that he himself was an asshole, he just didn't really want to be tarred with the same stick as him. Blaine hadn't confronted Karofsky about what he'd caught him doing to Kurt, yet, because he needed to hear it from Kurt first, needed to find out what exactly had occurred.

"Am I not?" Blaine asked, because he had thought long and hard about that. Kurt had pointed out that Karofsky had done exactly what Blaine had been doing and he'd wondered if maybe he was right. Maybe they were no better than each other, even if Blaine never wanted to admit that.

"No, not at all," Kurt said, those kaleidoscope eyes glittering in the light of Blaine's lamp. "I know that you're confused and afraid and that if I told you to get the hell off me, you'd get the hell off me."

Blaine's pulse began to race then, his stomach sinking.

"Kurt, he didn't, like, touch you, or—anything, right?" Blaine asked, voice strained, because as much as he needed to know the answer, he wasn't sure he could handle it.

"Oh, no," Kurt shook his head. "But I don't know what might have happened if.. Well. It doesn't matter. The point is, I shouldn't have said you were like him."

Blaine sighed and leaned back against the headboard of his bed.

"I don't know," he told the ceiling. "Either way, I should be the one apologising. I'm, um, sorry—about everything."

"Thanks," Kurt said, giving Blaine a small smile. "So, glee club, huh?"

Blaine felt the blush creeping up the back of his neck. He nodded a bit, knowing he couldn't avoid the question that was bound to come next, and it did.

"Why did you join?"

"If I said 'no comment', would you accept that?"

"Not a chance," Kurt told him and he sighed in response.

"Fine," he said. "I sort of wanted to talk to you and I didn't know how else I could do that and the sign up sheet was right there, so—I went for it."

Kurt gaped at him, then and he wanted to pull his eyes away from his stunned face, but he couldn't.

"You joined glee club because of _me_?" Kurt asked, voice filled with surprise.

Blaine gave a Gallic shrug and chewed on his bottom lip.

"You can sing, you know," Kurt told him and it was Blaine's turn to look surprised. "Like, you can really sing."

"Thanks," Blaine said, one corner of his mouth tilting slightly upwards.

"But I need to ask you something."

Blaine shrugged again and waited for Kurt to ask, his heart beating too quickly, because whenever someone asked if they could ask you something, it often meant it would be something you wouldn't like.

"The song," Kurt said and Blaine's breath caught in his chest. He was afraid that the question would be centred around that topic. "Are you—I mean—why that song?"

Blaine sat up straight and looked at Kurt watching him intently. He'd chosen that song because it best described how he'd been feeling. He didn't like that it did, but he'd quickly searched through his iPod after signing up for an audition and that song came on shuffle and although he'd listened to it a hundred times before, it seemed to scream out to him and he knew he had to sing it. He felt it when he listened to it, felt some sort of connection and he wished it would go away, but it didn't and that's what the song described exactly.

"It—" Blaine broke off then, because Kurt cut him off.

"Wait," he said and stood up from the bed. He crossed the room and bent to look at Blaine's notice board, over by his desk. Blaine tore his eyes away from Kurt's backside, which was in his immediate line of sight and those pants never left much to the imagination and since Blaine knew exactly what Kurt looked like _without _those pants, staring at them only caused images of what he knew lay beneath to flood his spinning mind.

"I don't understand," Kurt breathed out and Blaine stood to see what he was looking at. He fell back down when he saw Kurt holding the slushie stained schedule that had belonged to him once in his hands. He'd unpinned it from the board and was studying it, those ocean blue eyes wide and inquisitive.

Blaine was pretty much busted. He'd tried so hard to push it all out of his own mind, but now that Kurt was staring at him quizzically, it had all come back and his stomach was dancing and filled with fear and anxiety and dread and all of those bad things that it seemed to be so often filled with these days.

"Sit down?" Blaine asked, quietly. "I can explain."

Kurt sat without another word.

"I—I can't explain what I'm going through, Kurt," he said, looking down at his hands as if they held the answers to everything.

"Try harder," Kurt urged.

Blaine took a long inhale of air, then exhaled for a long time.

"The first time I saw you, I felt like I needed to talk to you," he admitted. "I didn't understand why—hell, I s_till _don't understand why, but I did. Then the bullying started and—you know where I stand on that, I don't do it because I want to, I do it because I _have _to and I know you don't think that's true, but I do, Kurt. I felt terrible that first day—I've felt terrible every day since. I had Jacob Ben Israel do a little digging on you."

"Digging?" Kurt asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"He didn't give me much," Blaine shrugged. "Just pointless little details. I also had him get me a copy of your schedule, which is how you had a brand new one on your first day. I kept the other one—obviously. I don't know why I kept it, I just did."

Blaine inched a bit closer without thinking and he wanted to move back again, but he couldn't now.

"There are so many things I've done since you arrived that I don't understand," Blaine told him, truthfully. His hands were shaking now, but he'd come this far now, he could go on. "It goes against everything I am that I'm even telling you all this. I haven't even accepted most of this myself, but I like you, Kurt and I don't know if this is a friendship thing, or what it is, really, I just know that I like who I am when I'm around you and I hardly ever like who I am."

"I like who you are, too," Kurt said, smiling. "I should hate you, you know that? I try to hate you every day, but even when you're standing by and letting your friends shove me in lockers, or when you're giving me slushie facials, I still don't hate you. I hate what you _do, _but I don't hate you."

Blaine nodded, understanding. He felt a bit dizzy from everything.

"And—what about the.. kissing?"

Blaine looked at Kurt again and breathed for a while, trying to get his head together.

"I don't know," he said, quietly. He didn't know, either. He didn't even want to know.

"That's okay," Kurt said and Blaine felt relief washing over him. "I get it. Kind of, but the night of Puck's party—"

"I don't know about that, either," Blaine interjected. "I was drunk—"

"Not the next morning, you weren't," Kurt reminded him. He had a point.

"I don't know," Blaine said in a whisper. "Haven't you ever had things happen to you that you couldn't explain?"

"Oh, every day, Blaine," Kurt chuckled. "For example, I keep on forgiving you, when in reality, I shouldn't even want to breathe the same air as you. I don't understand that. I just don't quite think it's the same thing."  
>"It's exactly the same thing," Blaine informed him, with a shake of his head.<p>

"To an extent, I guess," Kurt shrugged. "But I think it's different with you. I can't tell if you're gay and you just don't know it, or if you're straight and just looking for someone to be close to, because you don't really have anyone."  
>Blaine widened his eyes. He hadn't thought of that, but that had to be it, didn't it?<p>

"I don't know," he found himself saying. Kurt gave a knowing nod in response.

"So, why that song?" he asked again.

"I felt like it expressed how I've been feeling lately," he shrugged. There was no point in pretending it wasn't true, not any more.

"All this stuff has been knocking you sideways, huh?" Kurt asked, with a smirk.

Blaine shrugged and smiled back.

"I don't know the difference between right and wrong any more," he told Kurt, not entirely sure what he had even meant by that.

"Well," Kurt sat up and turned so that they were face to face. "What feels right to you?"

"Right now?" Blaine asked.

"Sure, if you want," Kurt told him.

"Right now," Blaine began. "Nothing really feels like it's the way it's supposed to be, but lately, the way it's supposed to be has been sucking."

Kurt laughed a little at that.

"I don't know what I'm doing any more and I definitely don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that, because nothing ever feels right any more—well. There is one thing."

"What's that?"

"I spend every day confused and searching for answers and I never come up with anything," he told Kurt, their eyes locked. "But the only time I ever feel like things are just right, like they are going to be okay and like something actually makes sense, is when I'm doing this."

And then Blaine was leaning across the bed and placing the palm of his shaking hand to Kurt's soft cheek. His lips pressed against Kurt's, slowly, until they found a rhythm with one another. Blaine could feel Kurt's heart thumping evenly against his chest and he couldn't dispute that he had meant everything he had just said, because for once, and for the first time in a long, long time, Blaine felt, with this boy's body slotted so perfectly against his own, that his life was steady and in sync with everything around him and maybe he wasn't sure about a lot of things, maybe he wasn't sure why he felt like he did, but he was sure that this was right, for some twisted, crazy, God forsaken reason, this felt right and in that moment, he could not have cared less about everything else in the world.

* * *

><p><strong>So, the last chapter left off with angst, so there's some fluff for you! I don't know that it'll last long, but still. Obviously, nothing is really solved, but they're doing okay for now. I honestly don't think I'm going to be able to post tomorrow, because my first exam is on Monday. I'll try get a chapter up on Monday night, but I can't promise anything. I will try my hardest, though. I really pushed to get this chapter done, so I think I can do it if I really, really try! Anyway, let me know what you think and thank you to everyone who is reading, it means a lot to me! :) <strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**I still own nothing. Let me just start by saying OH MY GOD THIS FIC IS ALMOST AT 100 REVIEWS. I was NOT expecting that AT ALL. THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! So, I started my exams today, the first one went okay, I think, thank you to everyone who wished me luck. This chapter is mostly fluffy, with a little bit of angst, but I wanted to leave you on sort of a good note, because I won't be posting tomorrow. I'll try post on Thursday, though. Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, it means so much :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9:<strong>

"I—can't, we—can't," Blaine said, sliding his hand out from underneath Kurt's shirt, the tips of his fingers placing tiny butterfly kisses all along Kurt's stomach as he went, sending small electric shocks all along his skin.

"Okay," Kurt breathed, flopping back against Blaine's pillows, his vision ever so slightly blurred. His lips felt bruised and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. "Okay."

Blaine fell back, too, his head flat on the bed rather than resting on the pillows. Kurt found it a little amusing that Blaine had broken away first, saying they couldn't, since Blaine had been the one doing all the touching. Kurt had simply sat with his back to Blaine's headboard, his fingers entwined in those silky curls and allowed Blaine's hands to explore various areas of his exposed skin, his fingers moving slowly and cautiously.

They lay there, breathing for a long time and then Kurt sat up and looked down at the other boy, his letterman jacket now in a pile on the floor, his cheeks flushed a dusty shade of pink. Blaine stared up at him through a canopy of full, dark lashes, those golden brown eyes dilated and bright. Kurt smiled, sadly, because Blaine looked so vulnerable like this. He liked when Blaine was vulnerable and real with him. Moments like these helped ease Kurt's mind every time he questioned himself about why he kept forgiving Blaine time and time again. When he thought of Blaine like this, he knew he wasn't making a mistake—or at least, he _hoped _he wasn't.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, softly.

"Yeah, it's just—that keeps happening," he said a little breathlessly. "Doesn't it?"

Kurt chuckled and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "It seems like it. Is it time for you to jump up and panic and then run out of the house?"

Blaine twisted his face in confusion, but he was smiling, which was a good sign and definitely an improvement to previous reactions.

"No," he informed Kurt. "Besides, this is _my _house, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Kurt found himself grinning. He felt relieved that Blaine hadn't reacted badly and demanded he leave. "I remember now," Kurt said, grabbing the stiff schedule with his picture in the corner and holding it up for Blaine to see. "I definitely don't have this stuck to any walls in my house."

Blaine's jaw dropped open and he laughed. He leaned up and snatched the piece of paper from Kurt and smoothened it out. Kurt watched as he climbed off the bed and went towards his notice board. He pinned it back where it had been before. Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"What?" Blaine said, sitting back down, his face a mask of innocence."I'm too used to having it there, now, so there it will stay," he declared.

Kurt's heart leapt a little as he nodded and smiled, timidly. Something about Blaine having his picture, even a picture that was faded and creased, filled him with some sort of pleasure and happiness.

"So, I don't mean to be a stick in the mud, here, or whatever," Kurt said, then, his voice a little hoarse. He cleared his throat, then continued. "But how are you going to tell your—_friends _about you joining glee?"

Blaine's head shot up, quickly, his eyes widening with alarm.

"I hadn't thought of that," he said, voice catching. "_Shit_."

* * *

><p>"Anderson!" Blaine heard a voice echoing down the hallways of McKinley. He turned to see Puckerman running towards him, shoving kids out of the way. Blaine knew what was coming, he felt his heart beat speeding up. He took a deep breath and waited for Puck to reach him. When he did, he gave Blaine a quizzical expression. "Well?" he said. "What's this I hear about you joining those glee losers?"<p>

Blaine sighed and slammed his locker shut.

"I didn't _want _to," Blaine told him, hoping he sounded convincing enough. "It's my dad," he explained. "He doesn't think I'm involved in enough 'extra-curricular activities'," he twisted his fingers into air quotes and shook his head. "He said I need to join something else so that my college applications look better, or something. I had no choice, man."

He felt sickened with himself that he had fabricated that ridiculous tale.

"But why glee?"

"What else am I supposed to join?" Blaine asked, matter-of-factly. "I am not playing chess, I suck at science and hockey is obviously out." There was a lot of bad feeling between the footballers and the hockey players. Basically, they despised one another. "What else is left? Cheerios?" he asked, trying to add a sprig of humour to the mix.

"I guess," Puck said, with a frown.

"Dude, relax," Blaine said. "I'll hardly even go, it'll be fine."

"I hope so, Anderson," Puck shook his head. "For your sake, I really, really hope so."

Puck stalked off down the hall and Blaine pressed his back to his locker, taking comfort in the cool metal against the back of his head.

He hoped so, too.

* * *

><p>"Kurt," a muffled voice said on the other end of Kurt's phone. "K—Kurt, I'm outside your—your house."<p>

Kurt sighed.

"Blaine," he said, patiently. "Blaine are you—who am I kidding? Of course, you are. You're drunk."

"Only a little—little bit!" he protested. "Kurt, let me in? Which one's your—your window, again, Kurt? Kurt? Kurt!"

"Okay, okay!" Kurt hissed. "My dad's sleeping, you need to stay quiet, okay?"

"Quiet?" Blaine shouted into Kurt's ear and he had to hold the phone away a couple of inches. "Did you say quiet, Kurt?"

"Blaine," Kurt said, quietly. "I'm not opening the door until you're completely silent."

Blaine said nothing. Kurt waited a minute, then rolled his eyes and started up the stairs.

"Come to the door, but keep quiet," he said into the phone, before pressing the 'end call' button.

He crept out into the hallway and unlocked the front door. He opened it slowly, so that it didn't make too much noise. He opened it all the way and Blaine was standing there grinning at him. Kurt raised a finger to his lips to remind Blaine to stay quiet, then stepped back and Blaine shuffled inside. Kurt closed the door and locked up again, before gesturing for Blaine to follow him.

Blaine followed closely behind him, in complete silence, only the sound of his breathing audible. They finally reached Kurt's room in the basement. Kurt closed the door behind them, quietly and tiptoed down the stairs, to find Blaine lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He was singing quietly to himself.

"So," Kurt said, unable to resist the smile dancing on his lips, as he sat down on the bed next to him. Blaine was pretty adorable like this, he had to admit. "Where have you been?"

"Someone's birthday," he told Kurt, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "You should have come. It _sucked_."  
>"Why would I come if it sucked?" Kurt asked, watching Blaine in amusement. Small tendrils lay across Blaine's forehead. His eyes were wide and bright and his face was flushed. The light of Kurt's lamp cast an illumination across Blaine's head, causing slivers of Blaine's hair to appear white. Kurt fought the urge to reach across and push his hair away from his face.<p>

"Because if you'd been there, it wouldn't have sucked any more, _duh_!" Blaine rolled his dark eyes.

"Of course," Kurt smirked. "So, what are you doing here?"

Blaine tilted his head, still smiling and looked up at Kurt curiously.

"I felt like looking at your face."

Kurt raised an eyebrow and cursed the fact that his heart beat had sped up again. He knew for a fact that his was the alcohol talking, but it was still touching for some reason.

"What were you doing before I got here?"

"Looking for a song."  
>"Why?"<p>

"Because of our glee assignment, remember?" Kurt asked. Blaine had been in glee club for three weeks now and he still hadn't grasped the fact that they had assignments every week.

Blaine sat up, his movements slow and grinned lopsidedly at Kurt.

"I'm finally going to get to hear you sing?"

"Maybe," Kurt said. He was nervous about singing in front of Blaine. He wasn't sure why. He'd done it in front of the entire glee club, more than once by now, yet the idea of singing while Blaine was present made his hands sweat and his head spin. Blaine seemed to bring it up a lot, which made Kurt feel even more nervous. "We'll see."

"Kurt," Blaine said and it sounded like a question. Kurt responded with a little 'hmm' sound, as he climbed to his feet and switched off his iPod, which was still playing music through his head phones, then slid it inside a drawer. "Why aren't you kissing me?"

Kurt stopped still and took a couple of breaths, before turning to face Blaine. He tried to act calm and collected, but his heart had stopped briefly in his chest and he could almost feel the blood rushing through his veins.

"I kiss you, like, every day," Kurt said, forcing a smile. "Actually, correction: _You _kiss _me_, every day."

Kurt didn't like to instigate anything between himself and Blaine, because he never really knew where he stood when it came to their situation. Sometimes, Blaine would give in and just kiss him and even smile afterwards, which always made Kurt smile, too. Other times, he would go silent and bury his head in his hands and that always made Kurt feel sick. It was probably stupid, getting worked up because of Blaine Anderson, but it happened regardless.

Kurt had come to terms with it now, the fact that his feelings had grown and he maybe, sort of liked Blaine as more than just a friend, or whatever they were right now. He wouldn't tell Blaine that, but he'd accepted it himself, even if he didn't like it most of the time.

"I meant," Blaine said, eyes half-lidded. "Why aren't you kissing me _now_?"

_Oh_.

"Because," Kurt said, thankful for the fact that Blaine's drunkenness probably meant he wouldn't notice that his voice was uneven as he spoke. "You smell like a liquor store."

"I know you want to kiss me," Blaine chuckled. "Kurt. Kurt! You do, don't you?"

Kurt folded his arms and shifted his feet and rolled his eyes in an attempt to convince Blaine that he did not want to kiss him.

"Tell you how I know?" Blaine asked, flinging his legs over the side of the bed and climbing to his feet. He wobbled a little, then caught his balance and went to stand directly in front of Kurt. Kurt swallowed hard. "I know because when you want to kiss me, you nibble on your bottom lip."

Kurt froze, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He felt himself blushing wildly. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came, because at that moment, Blaine lost balance and his hands reached up and clasped gently onto Kurt's forearms to steady himself. Unfortunately, Kurt's knees weren't exactly sturdy enough at that moment to keep them both upright. As a result, Blaine ended up flat on his back on Kurt's bed, with Kurt's body pressed to his. Blaine smiled up at him.

"You should do it," Blaine told Kurt.

"Do what?" Kurt asked. He told himself to pull away from Blaine, but he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Kiss me," Blaine said. "If you want to, you should."

Kurt studied Blaine, then. He'd told him to do it and he really did want to, because although Blaine smelled disgusting, he was still Blaine and he still felt really good against him and his eyes were pretty gorgeous. Kurt should just take him up on his offer and kiss him.

Except Kurt never kissed Blaine first. Never.

"Why don't you just kiss me?" Kurt asked, quietly, his breathing faster now. Being pressed against Blaine did no good for Kurt's lungs. He felt breathless and as if he might explode.

"Because I want you to kiss me."

"Why?"

"Because you want to do it," Blaine made his excuse.

"I—"

Blaine had tugged him closer and Kurt could feel Blaine's breath warm against his face. He smelled atrocious, but somehow that didn't matter.

"Kiss?" Blaine said, simply.

Kurt's heart was beating exceptionally quickly, but he could also feel Blaine's beating almost as quickly against his chest, so he didn't feel too embarrassed about it. Blaine's lips seemed so close to his now and they were so shiny and his eyes were so spectacular and one little kiss couldn't hurt, could it?

Kurt gave in and lowered his mouth down over Blaine's. He felt Blaine smiling against his lips as they kissed slowly and cautiously, Blaine's hands finding the small of Kurt's back. Kurt tasted the bitter, tangy taste of Blaine's mouth, but forgot about that when Blaine slipped his tongue past Kurt's teeth, the kiss growing more hungry now. Kurt was lost, then, because Blaine's warmth against him made him feel at ease and the rapid pace both of their hearts were beating felt comforting to him. Blaine's hands had slipped beneath his shirt now and his fingers were kneading gently up and down his back. Kurt felt strange shivers flittering up and down his spine. He shivered and Blaine pushed him gently side wards, so that he ended up above Kurt.

Blaine's hands had slipped around to Kurt's front and his fingers were on his stomach now, beneath his shirt. It was too close for comfort and Kurt felt himself hardening. Then he felt Blaine's erection against his thigh and he knew he should probably stop, but Blaine's mouth was gliding down his jaw and placing little kisses along his neck. He found Kurt's pulse then and clamped his mouth there and Kurt forgot that they weren't supposed to be doing this.

Then Blaine's fingers were hooking inside the top of Kurt's pants and they pushed downwards until Kurt was naked from the waist down. He groaned as Blaine slipped his fingers between his thighs.

"I just want you," Blaine murmured against Kurt's neck.

In one swift movement, Kurt had slipped out from beneath Blaine. He pushed his pants back up and stood a little away from the bed. Blaine was staring at him in confusion. Kurt's heart was hammering in his chest and he felt far too hot and his throat was dry, but he forced words anyway.

"I can't," he told Blaine.

"W—why?"

Blaine looked sort of.. _hurt._ Kurt wished he could take that look off his face, but he couldn't. He sighed and went back to sit on the edge of the bed, his erection throbbing now. He ignored it as best as he could and turned to look at Blaine, his face a mask of seriousness. Blaine was still looking at him like he didn't understand and he probably didn't, not with all that alcohol in his body.

"Blaine, look," Kurt began. "You can't get drunk and use that as an excuse to hook up with me."

"I didn't—"

"You did," Kurt apprised him. "When you're not drunk and you take things to a stage that you consider 'too far', you pull yourself away and you say we can't do it." This had happened a handful of times now. They hadn't done much more than making out, at least if you didn't count the night of Puck's party. Or the morning after, but other than that, kissing was the farthest they'd gone. Sure, hands had slipped and had been pulled away just as quickly as they'd landed, but that was it. "Look, I just—Blaine. I can't be used as some sort of—experiment."

"Experiment?" Blaine asked.

"Yes," Kurt nodded. "I—At the beginning, I would have gladly gone all the way with you," he said and he meant it, too. He completely would have. "Because you're—well, you're sort of gorgeous," he admitted and Blaine smiled and Kurt smiled, too, because if he'd learned anything in the past few months, he'd learned that Blaine's smile was infectious. "And I didn't really—_feel _anything, other than maybe, like, lust, or whatever." He paused and braced himself, because he wouldn't ever be able to reveal this to a sober Blaine. "But—not now. I—I can't just be used as some sort of—of experiment. I don't want to be the person you use to find out what you like, okay?"  
>"I don't get it," Blaine told him and he looked to be telling the truth.<p>

Kurt paused and tried to think of a better way to put it, a simpler way.

"Blaine, you have a girlfriend," Kurt told him. "Yet, you and I—well. We do what we do. It's pretty obvious you're having sexuality issues and I just—You pull away when you're sober. Every time. But now, while you're drunk, you want to just do whatever. I feel like.. like I'm being used so that you can solve your sexuality problems, but you're too afraid to do that while you're sober, so you're getting drunk and coming to hook up, just so you can—I don't know," Kurt stopped and rubbed his eyes for a minute. He found it incredibly hard to explain, especially with Blaine so close by and staring at him with those honey coloured eyes. "I just—I can't, okay?"

Blaine gave a small inclination of his head.

"Okay," he stated.

"Look," Kurt swallowed, his throat dry. He felt awful, because even though this was how he felt, there was a possibility that that wasn't what Blaine was doing. "You can stay here, because—well, we're sort of friends, aren't we?" _Friends who just happened to feel each other up now and again. _"And I don't really want to send my—my friend out while he's in this state." _Because I like looking at you for long periods of time._

Blaine nodded and gave Kurt a smile, which he returned. Blaine climbed into the bed and Kurt looked down at him for a couple of heart beats of silence.

"Kurt," Blaine said, then. He looked like a little boy, all innocent and wide eyed and pretty.

"Yeah?"

"Will you sleep next to me if I promise not to touch you?"

Kurt wavered then. It was probably a bad idea.

"I, um—uh, okay," he breathed. "I—I guess."

Kurt climbed in next to Blaine, carefully and reached across to switch off the bedside lamp. He lay there, his body rigid for a long time, until he thought Blaine was asleep. He relaxed a bit and closed his eyes and then he felt the heat coming up beside him. Suddenly, Blaine was there, next to him, their hips touching. Blaine reached down and clasped Kurt's hand in his own. Kurt forgot to breath for a moment, then tried to settle, to breathe and to get himself together.

"Goodnight, Kurt," Blaine whispered next to him.

Kurt shivered and he felt the tingling all along his skin on the side Blaine was closest to. He closed his eyes and listened to Blaine's even breaths.

"Goodnight, Blaine," he replied, quietly.

He was in deep, now and it didn't seem as if he was going to be able to get out of it any time soon.

The scariest part was that he wasn't sure he even wanted to get out.

* * *

><p>"I'm fully clothed," Blaine said the next morning, his body running rampant with relief. "You're—we're fully clothed."<p>

"Correct," Kurt said, smiling at Blaine through the mirror. He was in the middle of his early morning skin routine.

Blaine couldn't remember much from the night before. He sat up in Kurt's bed, his mouth tasting as if he'd eaten something well past its sell by date.

"So, we didn't do anything?" he asked, heart racing. He was afraid of the answer.

"Not really," Kurt told him. "Not that you didn't try."

"I.." he trailed off, unsure of whether or not he should ask what that meant. He didn't have to, because Kurt told him anyway.

"I stopped it before it went too far."

Kurt had stopped it. An inexplicable surge of disappointment found its way into Blaine's body. He wished it would go away, along with what seemed to be a permanent dreaded feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Are you ever going to tell anyone what Karofsky did to you?" Blaine found himself asking out of the blue.

Kurt looked at him through the mirror like he was crazy.

"Um, no."

"Why not?"

"I told you," Kurt said, with a sigh. He didn't sound angry, just tired. "I'm against outing people, it's not what I do."  
>"So.. you think he's—gay?"<p>

"You tell me," Kurt shrugged, squeezing some sort of white cream into the palm of his hand.

"Why—why would I know?" Blaine asked, nervously. He wasn't sure why he felt nervous, he just did. Talking about things like this made him feel ill.

"You know him better than I do," Kurt said.

"Oh," Blaine said, feeling stupid. "I don't know him that well. Not really."

"Well," Kurt said. "For the record, I think he is gay. From what he was saying anyway."

Blaine nodded and pressed the back of his head to the cool headboard. His head was pounding.

Kurt closed the lids of all of his bottles and tubs and then turned to look a Blaine. He eyed him for a moment, then spoke.

"Blaine," he said, softly. "Don't you think you should admit it? To yourself, I mean? I'm not telling you to tell the entire world and its mother, but—I think you need to maybe.. try to accept it."  
>"Accept what?" Blaine asked, but he knew. Deep down, he knew good and well what Kurt meant.<p>

"You know," Kurt said, folding his hands. "That you're—maybe not as straight as you've believed all along."

Blaine's gaped at Kurt, his eyes wide.

"I," he declared. "Am not gay, Hummel."

"And we're back to the 'Hummel'," Kurt rolled his cerulean eyes. "Just when I thought we were making progress."  
>"Kurt, then," Blaine said. "I'm—I'm not gay."<p>

"Yeah," Kurt said, not without sarcasm. "And you totally didn't pull my pants down last night."

Damn.

"I—I didn't.." Blaine said, astonishment plain on his face. He had, he knew he had. He simply didn't want to believe it.

"You did," Kurt told him. "I'm just saying that you should admit it to yourself. It's the first step."

"I'm not—"

"Yeah, so you said," Kurt said. "But your actions do sort of indicate otherwise, don't they? I don't know, Blaine, maybe you're bi, or maybe you just don't care about gender, I don't know. I just know that you ke—_we_ keep on making out and we keep on ending up in these.. intimate positions and you seem totally into it, until you remind yourself that you're not supposed to be into it. That's all I'm saying. I'm not even asking you to admit it to me, just to you."

Blaine dropped his eyes to his hands and didn't tear them away for a long time. He didn't really know what to say to that, because what if Kurt was right? But he couldn't be, could he?

"I'm sorry," Kurt said and Blaine looked up then. "I hate labels, I don't know why I said all that. I just—Blaine, you believe that you're straight, don't you?"

Blaine just nodded, words escaping him.

"Right," Kurt said. "All I meant to say was that you might feel better if you try to accept that you're—well. Not. Either way, I didn't mean to sound like I was pushing you, or whatever. Do it in your own time. Just—do you remember what happened last night? After I stopped what we were doing?"

"Vaguely."

"And are you—using me to figure it out?"

Blaine raised his eyebrows and parted his lips.

"What? No!" he said, quickly. How could Kurt think that? "I—Kurt. I like how we are," he said, quietly. "I don't know why I like it, I just know that I do."

Kurt gave him a smile and it reached his glittering eyes.

"But I'm not using you," he shook his head, hoping he was doing enough to convince Kurt of the truth. "I promise, I'm not. Like you said, we're sort of friends. To be honest, you're the only—the only real friend I've got."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Blaine smiled. "I don't understand any of—this, yet, but I just know that I don't want it to stop. I meant it when I said things felt right when we—when we—"

"I get it," Kurt nodded and Blaine was glad, because he wasn't sure he could finish that sentence. "And you know what? You're getting there, because a couple of days ago, you probably wouldn't have admitted that to me."

Blaine grinned, but he wasn't sure if he should feel happy about that or not.

"Now, if only we could do something about your bullying tendencies."

"Kurt, you know I'm sorr—"

"Blaine, I was kidding," Kurt told him. "Well, mostly kidding. I don't like it, but I get it. You'll get there, I think. I must be a good influence," he teased, winking and Blaine felt his stomach leaping. It must have been because he was hungry.

"Yeah, you must be," Blaine rolled his eyes and smiled, hoping he was doing enough to conceal the stupid feelings he was currently enduring. "Are we okay?" he asked, then, seriously, because he didn't like it when they fought.

"Yeah, we're okay," Kurt assured him. "You don't look convinced."

Blaine only shrugged, because he wasn't sure where they stood with regards to everything now. Kurt sighed and came and sat next to him on the bed.

"Come here," he smiled and reached across. He pulled Blaine's head gently towards his own, until their lips met and Blaine wanted nothing more than for Kurt to keep on kissing him, until he didn't have to think any more. Kurt pulled back then, much to Blaine's chagrin. He smiled and Blaine's stomach took another leap. Obviously still hungry.

"Convinced?" Kurt enquired.

Blaine took a deep breath and forced out the words he wanted to say.

"Maybe," he told Kurt, then he gave in to the smile dancing on the corners of his lips. "But you should convince me one more time, just for good measure."

"Asshole," Kurt said, but he leaned across and captured Blaine's mouth with his own again. This time, Blaine wrapped an arm round his waist and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss, because sometimes, when his brain told him to do things, his body ignored it and did something else, did what it wanted to do and apparently, it wanted Kurt close and Blaine couldn't do anything about that, so he simply gave in.

"You know," Kurt said, once they'd pulled apart a little to breathe. "I thought I had higher morals. Who would have thought I'd become the other woman?"

Blaine spluttered and pressed a single kiss to Kurt's lips again. It was pointless not doing it at this stage, they'd made out so many times and Blaine liked it, whether it had to do with the pressing need for someone to want him, or something else he didn't know and right now, he just didn't care.

"Maybe she's the other woman," he smiled against Kurt's lips, those blue eyes so dangerously close that he feared he might lose himself if he stared into them for too long.

"Yeah?" Kurt asked and Blaine knew from the glint in those eyes like cyan oceans that it was more than a mere joke now.

"Yeah," he replied and he meant it, because regardless of whether he was ready to admit it to himself or not, Kurt meant more to him than Quinn ever had in the entire two years they'd been dating. "But she's scary, so I'd rather she didn't know that."  
>"I can be scary, too, you know," Kurt told him.<p>

"Can you?" Blaine chuckled and Kurt gave him a fake scowl. "I believe that, actually. Don't they always say that? That things that are beautiful have some sort of sinister side?"

Kurt's smile faded and their eyes locked and Blaine realised he'd called him beautiful. He hadn't even known himself up until that point that he considered Kurt beautiful. Could another guy be beautiful? _Apparently,_ he thought as he stared into those eyes, studying the array of colour and swirls, the mingling of the blues and greens and yellows and even oranges and yes, beautiful did sort of sum him up.

"Um," Kurt said, finally. "My dad's gone to the garage already. We should go eat, or something."

Blaine agreed because eating would take away those feelings in his stomach, the leaping and the hollow feeling. He was just hungry, after all and hopefully a good breakfast would solve that.

It didn't.

* * *

><p><strong>I just thought I'd say that on scarvesandcoffee, someone told me they had questions, so if you have any questions, just send me a message, or write to me on tumblr (likechildreninafairytale &amp; the urls on my profile). Ask box is always open and I'll answer anything at all. My anon is on if you want to do it like that, either. So, let me know what you think. If you're still reading, it really does mean a lot, so thank you! :) x<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**I own nothing! I got done studying early today, so I wrote a quick chapter. The song in this chapter is Brand New Colony by The Postal Service (link on my profile). I'll get another chapter done tomorrow after my exam. I know this one is sort of short, but hopefully it'll keep you interested in the story :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10:<strong>

"I'll just add in your comment about the pedestal of infamy and then we're done with the final assignment until after the New Year," Blaine beamed at Kurt from across their usual corner table in the romance section of the library. He grabbed a pen and scribbled the comment down and it was fully complete.

Kurt smiled. "Yep," he said. "You won't have to see me outside school for the rest of the year!"

Blaine frowned. It was December now and he and Kurt had been growing closer and Blaine felt something with him that he had never felt with anyone else in his entire life: Comfort and like he didn't have to pretend. The emptiness in the pit of his stomach was less frequent now and he'd given in to how he and Kurt were around each other. He didn't like to think about the reason for them being like this, but he liked how they were and he liked Kurt.

"That wasn't what I meant," he said, voice darkening. "You know I—"

"Blaine, relax," Kurt chuckled, his thin eyebrows raising slightly. "I was joking."

Blaine's frown remained intact as he laid the papers down on the desk in front of him. He placed his elbows down on the table, too and looked up at Kurt.

"We can still, like—hang out, right?" Blaine asked, hopefully.

Kurt's smile faded and his light blue eyes widened and studied Blaine intently. He was pale and his cheeks had flushed a pretty shade of pink and the dim lights left a sheen across his perfectly coiffed hair.

"If you want to," he shrugged his broad shoulders.

"I want to," he affirmed, with a nod of his head.

"Okay, then," Kurt said, that smile returning. "Just give me a call whenever you want."

Blaine smiled, relieved.

"So, final glee club meeting of the year tomorrow," Kurt said and Blaine frowned. He liked glee club well enough, he just didn't like how the other members regarded him. Most of them ignored him, some sent snarky remarks his way, some looked terrified whenever he entered the room. The only one that ever showed him any kind of kindness, other than Kurt, was Mr Schuester.

"I don't think I'm going to go," Blaine sighed.

"What?" Kurt asked, leaning forward. "Why not?"

"I'm thinking of quitting after sectionals," he admitted.

"You can't quit!" Kurt said, voice a little more high-pitched than usual. "We need you! After sectionals comes regionals and then nationals, if we're lucky! You can't quit!"

Blaine shrugged one shoulder.

"They all kind of hate me," he said, quietly, dropping his gaze to the table.

"Stop being so—on the defence around them. Let them see this side of you," Kurt smiled. "You snap at them most of the time and you sit there scowling. Of course, they feel intimidated by you. You've only been making their lives a misery for God only knows how many years."

He had a point, Blaine guessed.

"Besides, you can't not go tomorrow," Kurt said, sitting back in his chair. "I'm singing tomorrow."

Blaine raised his eyes to Kurt. He hadn't heard Kurt sing yet and he really wanted to, for some reason.

"You are?" he asked, wonderment plain in his voice. "Really?"

"Really," Kurt nodded. "Well, it's a duet. With Rachel. But still, yes, I'm singing."

Blaine nodded and began stacking the loose sheets of paper lying on the desk.

"So...?" Kurt asked, giving Blaine a quizzical look.

"What?" Blaine asked, smiling a bit.

"You'll come?"

"Duh," he said. "I've been trying to make you sing for weeks! I'm not passing up this opportunity, even if Rachel is going to be standing next to you trying to out sing you and making those ridiculously passionate faces."

* * *

><p>"Off to gay club?"<p>

Blaine swung around and saw Karofsky standing in the empty hallway, a smirk on his face.

"No, I didn't know there was a gay club at McKinley," Blaine smiled. "When did you form one?"

"W-what?" Karofsky stammered. "I'm not—"

"What I caught you doing to K—_Hummel_ in the janitor's closet says otherwise," Blaine stated.

Karofsky looked uncomfortable, his hands slipping into his pockets, feet shifting awkwardly. Blaine felt bad for a brief moment, until he remembered what Karofsky had done to Kurt.

"You don't know what you saw! You—"

"Oh, I know what I saw, David," Blaine grinned. "I also know what Hummel told me during English the day after."

Karofsky looked speechless and although Blaine knew exactly how it felt to be called out on how you felt, he took pleasure in the sight. Karofsky was an asshole. It was true, Blaine was an asshole, too, but Karofsky was a bigger asshole.

He looked confused, then lashed out. He sprung forward and pushed Blaine hard against the lockers. Blaine was smaller than Karofsky, but he was still strong. He pushed him off and shoved him up against the lockers on the opposite side of the corridor. Karofsky groaned and Blaine clutched him hard by the shoulders.

"I think you should apologise, David," Blaine snarled.

Karofsky lunged forward then, pushing Blaine to the ground and before Blaine could push him away, Karofsky's fist came down and collided with Blaine's left eye. Images and memories of different fists crashing into him flooded through his mind and he was suddenly very, very angry.

"You're useless to us," Karofsky was shouting as he struck another blow to the side of Blaine's face. "All you do is go around singing with those glee losers. I haven't seen you slushying a dork in _weeks_ and word on the street is you're not screwing your girlfriend."

"At least I have a girlfriend," Blaine said and swung an arm, but missed Karofsky's face.

"Useless!" Karofsky growled. "Useless, useless, _useless_!"

_Useless._

Blaine was sick to his teeth of that stupid word. Every single person that raised a hand to him used that dreaded word. He was really mad now and he wanted to hurt someone. He took a few breaths, then shoved Karofsky hard until he shot back and Blaine was over him. He raised a clenched fist and struck Karofsky's face with it. And then he couldn't stop. His teeth were clenched and his eyes were wild and he just kept on punching until he had no energy left. He fell back against the lockers and breathed, trying to calm his temper, to get his heart to stop thumping so loudly. Karofsky muttered something along the lines of 'asshole', before getting to his feet and taking off down the halls.

Blaine stayed there for a minute, then remembered he was supposed to be at glee and Kurt was singing today. He stood up, straightened his clothes and ran all the way to the choir room, hoping he wasn't too late.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God," Kurt exclaimed when Blaine walked through the choir room door, panting. He looked awful. Well, that wasn't true. Blaine seldom looked awful, but he definitely didn't look his best at that moment. His eye was swelled and the side of his jaw was bruised and his curls had sprung free once again.<p>

"Blaine, are you okay?" Mr Schuester asked, standing up, concern plain on his face.

"I'm fine," Blaine breathed. "Can we just get on with whatever you were doing before I got here?" he asked, walking towards the seats and sitting down. He crossed his arms and frowned, everyone's eyes on him.

"Um, okay," Mr Schue said, sounding a little uncertain. "Kurt, Rachel. You guys are up."

Kurt wanted to go to Blaine and ask him what had happened, but he couldn't, not in front of everyone. Instead, he climbed to his feet and went to stand next to Rachel in front of the class, as she spoke about the song. She was saying all the wrong things, but Kurt just let her go on.

The music started and Rachel sang first.

_"I'll be the grapes fermented,_

_Bottled and served with the table set in my finest suit,_

_Like a perfect gentlemen,_

_I'll be the fire escape that's bolted to the ancient brick,_

_Where you will sit and contemplate your day."_

Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine as Rachel sang. He still looked really mad, his eyes were staring vacantly into space and his chest was rising and falling very quickly. Kurt joined in with Rachel on the next verse.

_"I'll be the water wings that save you if you start drowning,_

_In an open tab when your judgment's on the brink,_

_I'll be the phonograph that plays your favorite_

_Albums back as you're lying there drifting off to sleep,_

_I'll be the platform shoes and undo what heredity's done to you,_

_You won't have to strain to look into my eyes,_

_I'll be your winter coat buttoned and zipped straight to the throat,_

_With the collar up so you won't catch a cold."_

Blaine was looking at him now, his head tilted a little, his eyes curious and bright. His face had softened and his breathing had slowed and he looked more sad than angry now. Kurt braced himself for his solo part, his heart beating manically. He could do this.

_"I want to take you far from the cynics in this town,_

_And kiss you on the mouth,_

_We'll cut our bodies free from the tethers of this scene,_

_Start a brand new colony,_

_Where everything will change."_

He could see Blaine's interest growing now, his eyes a little wider, his lips parting, his fists unclenched. Kurt had chosen this song because he needed to express how he felt. Yes, he liked Blaine as more than just what they were, which was friends, he guessed. He didn't think he would ever be able to admit that to Blaine, at least not in the near future, so he needed to get it out of his system. And if Blaine was there to witness it, all the better. He'd asked Rachel to do it with him, because he didn't think the song really suited his voice enough to sing it alone. They sounded good together.

_"We'll give ourselves new names, identities erased,_

_The sun will heat the grounds,_

_Under our bare feet in this brand new colony,_

_Everything will change."_

He finished and the music stopped and people were clapping and Blaine was clapping, too, his eyes locked on Kurt. Rachel bowed and walked back to her seat. Kurt followed, giving Blaine a small smile as he walked up to sit next to Mercedes.

"That was awesome," Mercedes told him.

"Thanks," he replied.

Blaine's shoulders had relaxed now and he looked a lot calmer than he had minutes before. Kurt smiled, because that was his doing.

* * *

><p><strong>1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: KURT.<strong>

_Can I get a ride?_

Blaine texted back a quick yes and waited by his car. He'd ran out of glee club as quickly as possible, before anyone could ask any questions. He wasn't feeling as angry as he had been earlier, but he still felt stupid and weak and he wanted to punch Karofsky's lights out, but he felt better and there was a good reason for that.

_Kurt had the most wonderful voice he had ever heard in his entire life._

He turned around when he heard the school doors opening and closing and saw Kurt walking towards him. He stood up straight and cursed Karofsky for the hundredth time since the fight had occurred for giving him a black eye and a bruised cheek. Even he couldn't pull that off.

"Bad day?" Kurt asked, smiling sadly once he'd reached him.

"I've had worse," he shrugged and it hurt a little. "Can we go some place else?"

Kurt walked forward and opened the passenger door, before climbing inside and closing it. Blaine went around his side and did the same. He drove the car out of the McKinley parking lot and drove until they had reached a park. He pulled into the small parking area and sighed as he sat back against his seat.

Kurt was studying him. "Do I get to know what happened?"

"In a minute," Blaine said, before reaching across and pulling Kurt's mouth roughly down over his own. Kurt gasped in protest, but when their lips met he relaxed and gave in to the kiss. Blaine kissed him for a long time, because he just needed to be close to someone for a little while.

"Are you alright?" Kurt asked, softly, once they'd pulled apart.

"Do I look alright?" he snapped.

"Okay, relax," Kurt said, firmly. "I thought we were past this by now."

"Sorry," Blaine murmured. "Karofsky was taunting me and we got into a bit of a fight."

"Clearly," Kurt said, simply. "Does it hurt?"

"Only when I breathe," Blaine joked, but his laugh came out weakly.

Kurt frowned a bit, as he studied Blaine's injuries. Blaine sighed again. Every muscle in his body ached. He needed to just go home and sleep it off.

"Did you call him out on the gay thing?"

"Maybe."

"Blaine," Kurt said, with some disapproval.

Blaine sighed and explained what had happened in as much detail as he could at that moment.

"Even still," Kurt said, afterwards. "He's obviously struggling."

"Screw him," Blaine groaned. "I don't care, okay? I'm sick of people calling me useless and using me as a punching bag!"

Kurt was silent and his face fell.

"Blaine, I didn't me—"

"I know," he said. "I know that, okay? Can we just forget about Karofsky and talk about something else?"

Kurt nodded, quickly and Blaine just wanted to kiss him just so that he would shut up and not talk about all these things he was too afraid to talk about, to even think.

"So, um, you finally got to hear me sing," Kurt said, changing the subject.

Blaine sat up a little and looked at him.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I've never heard anyone sing like you," he told him, truthfully.

"In a—good way?"

"In the _best_ way," Blaine assured him. "Seriously, Rachel should just like, sit down and let you have all the solos. We would win _everything_."

Kurt smiled and Blaine smiled then, too, because he liked when Kurt smiled. He could discern the smile in those bright blue eyes of his and it was just refreshing to see him like this. He thought back to the sad looking boy in the schedule photo hanging from his notice board at home and decided he liked this smiling one so much better.

"You're not just saying that because you hate Rachel?" Kurt enquired.

"Definitely not," he apprised him. "Hearing you sing was the best part of my day."

"I like when you're like this," Kurt told him.

"Like what?"

"Not—hating me."

"I don't hate you," Blaine said. "We've already determined this."

"Liking me then," Kurt corrected.

Blaine's smile grew as he sat up straight.

"We determined that, too."

"You're not, you know."

"I'm not what?" Blaine asked, crinkling his nose a little.

"Useless," Kurt clarified and Blaine's heart sank. "You're not useless."

Blaine's breath had caught in his chest and he felt his throat tightening, the urge to cry nagging at him. He ignored it and leaned across and pressed his lips to Kurt's again. He still didn't know what this was, or why it was happening, or if he ever would know, but it felt good and he just didn't care sometimes. Kurt was real, he was there, when no one else was and sometimes telling Kurt what was on his mind just came natural and he instantly regretted it, then went back to not caring.

Blaine unlatched his mouth from Kurt's, but kept his lips brushing against his, as he whispered words shakily into his mouth.

"_I want to take you far from the cynics in this town and kiss you on the mouth."_

And then he fell back into the kiss, feeling Kurt's smile against his lips and he wished more than anything in the world that he could do just that.

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you thought! Almost done with the exams, my last one will be on Friday, so I'll be back to normal then. Thank you to all reviewers again! And thanks to those of you who came to me on tumblr and said you're enjoying reading, it means a lot :)<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**I own nothing! So, I'm sorry about yesterday. I tried to write this and I couldn't for some reason. I kept getting distracted and annoyed at myself, but got it done today. Last exam tomorrow, so I'll be back posting regularly again. Have some cheesy, cheesy Blaine as an apology :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11:<strong>

Blaine sighed silently at the loud noises coming from the people he sat with at lunch. He was next to Puck, who was laughing at something Azimio was saying. Karofsky was scowling at him from across the table, which he ignored and everyone was just being unnecessarily loud. Lately, the footballers and cheerleaders he sat with were driving him crazy. He wanted to lean across and smack Puck in the head, because he was laughing far too boisterously. He wanted to punch Karofsky again simply because he was an ass and he wanted to tell that red headed cheerleader—_what was her name again?—_to stop playing dumb, just so that she could gain attention.

He glanced across the room at the glee table. They were talking quietly, some of them laughing. It was really amazing that the members of the one club that spent all their time singing and dancing and performing were so quiet and refined. Kurt was sitting there, next to Mercedes, smiling slightly, his pale lips upturned at the corners, his luminous eyes glancing up from his lunch as Mercedes spoke. He blinked and his light lashes fluttered slowly down into the hollows beneath his eyes, then back up again.

Blaine liked to watch Kurt when he didn't know he was watching him. He was absently running a thin finger along his jaw line, his elbow rested on the table. He looked like he didn't belong there, amongst the trash cans and the cleaning ladies and the pale, sickly green walls. He stood out a mile sitting there, in his white, long-sleeved shirt and his hair so perfectly styled and his skin so smooth and on the verge of transparency.

The words of the song struck Blaine not for the first time that day.

_"I want to take you far from the cynics in this town and kiss you on the mouth."_

Regardless of what he knew he did or didn't feel when it came to Kurt, he could concede that Kurt didn't belong here, in this drab, narrow-minded town, full of ignoramuses and uneducated assholes. Kurt had told him that first day that he was going to make something of himself and Blaine believed that now. When it came down to the cold, hard facts, Kurt was better than all of them, even, Blaine had to admit, better than Blaine himself.

Kurt looked up just as Blaine thought this and the feeling that he'd been caught doing something wrong struck him almost instantly, his heart leaping in his chest, mouth parting, eyes widening. But Kurt simply smiled, his glistening eyes lighting up and acknowledging Blaine. Blaine returned his smile, because when Kurt smiled at him, there were only two things he could do that were appropriate as a response. The first of these was to cover that smile with his lips and since they were in a crowded lunch room, not to mention at least fifteen feet apart, Blaine had to go with the second option, which was to smile back.

Kissing Kurt wasn't something he really thought about any more. Actually, that was a lie. He seemed to think about it quite a bit, but he didn't think about it in the sense that it ate away at him, because it was wrong and went against everything that he was. Nowadays, it was just something that _was, _something he just did, almost daily, because it felt good, even if it didn't make sense.

Kurt looked away, glancing back only once, before turning his attention back to Mercedes.

"Hey!"

Blaine almost jumped out of his seat. Quinn slipped onto the bench next to him and followed his gaze, just as Kurt glanced across, then quickly looked away. Quinn's lipglossed smile faded and she was frowning. Then she turned to look at Blaine and a grin replaced her frown.

"Guess what?" she enthused.

"Um, what?" Blaine asked, eyes falling down to study the fries on his tray. He couldn't even begin to guess.

"I'm joining glee club!"

Blaine's entire body went rigid and his head shot up too quickly, his neck twisting and aching instantly.

"You're doing what?" Blaine spluttered.

"I'm joining glee club!" Quinn repeated, smiling sweetly.

"You—you can't join glee club," Blaine shook his head, which was already spinning. "Sectionals is next week, Quinn."

"I know!" Quinn apprised him. "I already talked to Mr Schuester and he said I can start in January! Isn't that great? Now we'll be together all the time!"

"Terrific," Blaine deadpanned. "That's just.. terrific."

* * *

><p>"Can Quinn even sing?" Kurt asked, when Blaine told him Quinn was joining glee club in January, over the phone. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, music playing quietly from his iPod speakers in the background.<p>

"I have no idea," Blaine replied and he sounded distressed. "I can't go anywhere without her following me, I swear."

Kurt frowned. Blaine was such an idiot most of the time. He had brief non-idiot moments, but when it came to the crunch, he was the definition of an idiot.

"Why don't you tell her that?"

"Are you kidding me?" Blaine exploded and Kurt could almost see him raising his arms in protest and surprise. "I can't do that! I like my kneecaps where they are, thank you very much!"

Kurt rolled his eyes. Trust Blaine to over-dramatize things.

"Blaine, are you going to let her push you around forever?"

"That's the plan," Blaine muttered and Kurt was rolling his eyes again.

"Are you serious?" he asked. "You really plan on spending the rest of forever heeding to her every call?"

"Do I have any other option?"

_Yes, _Kurt thought, _yes, you do, _but he didn't say it out loud, because that would lead to a very awkward silence, followed by a very awkward conversation and then awkward moment after awkward moment would continue to occur for the foreseeable future.

"Blaine, I don't think we—"

"Kurt, sorry, I'm gonna have to go," Blaine cut him off and Kurt could hear him sitting up. "My mom and dad are fighting again and.. well. I have to go, I don't know, do something, I guess."

Kurt wished he knew what to say to that, but he didn't.

"Alright," he answered. "See you at school."

They said their goodbyes and hung up soon after. Kurt had almost done it. He'd almost told Blaine that they couldn't do what they were doing any more, whatever it was. Quinn joining glee and hanging around Blaine all the time would drive him crazy and he wasn't sure he wanted to be part of that. Sure, he couldn't turn his feelings off in a blink of an eye, but at least if Blaine wasn't kissing him and letting little terms of endearment slip every now and then, it would be easier for him to handle it.

Kurt sighed and lay back against his pillows.

He would tell him tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"What happened to your face?"<p>

Blaine sighed, tiredly and turned his head away from his father, although there was no point now, he'd already seen it.

"Crashed into one of the guys at football," he said, quickly.

"Really."

"Yeah," he shrugged.

"Hmm," his dad said, then he stood up and walked out of the room, without another word.

Blaine looked across at his mom on the sofa, her eyes closed, head on her shoulder. He sighed and went to the kitchen to clean the now broken plate his father had thrown at the wall. He swept the shards onto the dust pan and emptied it into the bin, before looking around at his home.

The plate wasn't the only thing in pieces.

* * *

><p>The only time Kurt got to talk to Blaine at school the next day was during English and he couldn't very well tell him with everyone around like that. He decided he would do it later. He would call him, or ask if he wanted to drive somewhere, or something. Either way, it had to be done. If he didn't do it today, he probably wouldn't consider it again for a long time and getting himself in deeper was the last thing he needed right now.<p>

He called Blaine four times that night and four times it went straight to voice mail. Maybe he was having issues with his parents, or maybe Quinn had forced him into doing something with her. He didn't want to think just what he might be doing with her, so he went to bed early and promised himself he would put things right the next day.

* * *

><p><em>Tap.<em>

_Tap._

_Tap._

He was dreaming, his mind caught in that void between reality and the subconscious. The world was a cloud of cotton candy and mist. His chest felt constricted and his brain was protesting, his body shifting, turning away from the vexatious

_tap_

_tap_

_tap._

The taps shattered the humming and buzzing in his ear drums and blood rushed in his head.

_Tap._

_Tap tap._

_Tap._

_CRASH._

He slipped from his slumber and sprung up in his bed, his eyes blinking quickly, discarding the sleep from the corners. His heart was racing and his mind felt fuzzy and he didn't know what was going on.

He sat there in unmitigated silence for a couple of heartbeats, before reaching across to check the time on his phone. He clicked a button and the screen came to life, the bright light piercing his eyes momentarily and then he settled his gaze on the numbers on the screen.

_2.07A.M., December 15th._

He didn't have time to think before the sound from his dream was sifting through the air once again.

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

Kurt turned to look in the direction from which the sound was coming and his eyes rested on the two small rectangular windows at the top of his left wall.

_Someone was knocking._

Who on earth was knocking on his window at two o' clock in the morning? His initial thought was that someone was trying to break in, to go through the basement and ransack his house.

Kurt possessed many traits that likened him to a cat. For one, he was extremely flexible. Another thing was that he was also far too curious for his own good.

He climbed to his feet and went towards the window, aware of the taps still coming, but they were nowhere near as loud as the tapping sound of his heart in his ears. He gazed up at the window, in the light of the moon and stared for a long time, until he saw movement. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he reached up and unlatched the lock and pulled the window towards him.

"_Blaine?_"

A set of warm, honey coloured eyes filled the small gap to the outside and Kurt looked up at the other boy quizzically.

"Hi," Blaine said, sounding a little breathless.

"Blaine, it's after 2 A.M.," Kurt hissed. "What are you doing? Are you drunk again?"

"No," Blaine replied and he didn't sound drunk. "Can you get dressed and come outside?"

"_What?_"

"Please?"

Kurt took a deep breath, then exhaled.

"Fine," he said, finally. "Give me 20 minutes—"

"20 minutes?" Blaine cut in. "Just put on some clothes and come outside."

"But my hair—"

"It's only me," Blaine chuckled and it struck Kurt that Blaine really had no idea how much he meant to him. "Come on, I'll wait by my car and if you're not out here in 5 minutes, I'll throw more pebbles."

"Fine," Kurt said, turning away. He glanced back at the window and Blaine was gone. Kurt sighed and went to his closet, pulling out jeans and a shirt. It was way too late for drastic fashion decisions. Why was Blaine doing this to him?

He got dressed and looked in the mirror, his face twisting upon seeing his hair, now sticking up in tufts and flat on the side he'd slept on. Kurt groaned as he took a comb and did his best with what little time he had. He sighed and laid the comb down, then snuck upstairs and out the front door, closing it slowly and quietly behind him.

Kurt walked cautiously to the end of the driveway, watching his step in the dark. He saw Blaine leaning on the bonnet of his car, arms folded and feet over crossed.

"It's about time," he said, standing up straight, a broad smile on his shadowed face. He was wearing a leather jacket and his hair was unkempt. He looked like a bad influence.

"Why do you look like a criminal?" Kurt enquired, though he couldn't deny the fact that Blaine looked pretty hot like this.

"I call it 'inconspicuous-but-still-flattering'," Blaine informed him.

"I call it 'trying-to-look-like-a-badass-but-failing-miserably'," Kurt retorted. "Those shoes are all wrong."

Blaine chuckled as he leaned across and opened the passenger door of his car. Then he walked around to the driver's side. "Coming?"

"Where?" Kurt asked.

"Live a little, Hummel," Blaine said, grinning. Kurt simply stared at him, a disapproving look on his face. "Are you coming, or am I going to have to forcibly manoeuvre you into the car?"

Kurt entertained the idea and conceded it wasn't the worst thing he could think of happening. He remembered then that he was trying to get over Blaine and so, just walked forward and climbed inside the car and shut the door. Blaine climbed in, too and did the same.

"Cheer up, birthday boy," Blaine said, glancing across at a scowling Kurt next to him. He turned the keys in the ignition and the car started up with a small purr and Blaine began to drive down the street.

Kurt swung around to look at him.

"How did you know it was my birthday?"

"I have my ways," Blaine told him. "I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

"But, seriously," Kurt said, gravely. "How did you know?"

"Relax," Blaine chuckled, turning a corner. "I told you I had Jacob Ben Israel give me some of your details?" Kurt nodded. "Right, well, your date of birth was on there."

"Oh," Kurt said. "I tried calling you today."

"I know," Blaine told him. "I was busy."

Kurt fought the urge to ask what he had been busy doing, because he didn't want to nag him like Quinn did. He also wasn't sure he wanted to know, especially if he had been 'busy' with Quinn.

"I was busy," Blaine said again. "Planning something."

"Planning something," Kurt repeated, slowly.

"Do you remember that first day when we got paired for these assignments?" Blaine asked and Kurt nodded, a small smile on his mouth. "And I told you that I was full of surprises?" Kurt nodded, again, smile growing. "Well, now you get to see me put words in motion."

Kurt smirked. "I thought I already got to see you put words in motion the night of Puck's party."

Kurt watched as Blaine's jaw dropped and his eyes fell on Kurt, filled with surprise, then his mouth relaxed and twisted into a smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

"Touché."

* * *

><p>"Let me get this straight. You woke me up at 2 A.M.," Kurt said, with a sort of contrived patience. "Just so that I could sit in a field with you?"<p>

Kurt glanced around at the vast stretch of land around them. They stood in the middle of a field, with only trees lining the edges, which led into forest on all ends, except for one, which opened onto an abandoned parking lot, in which Blaine's car was now parked. It was empty and cold and the only sound for miles was the wind and the infrequent hoot of an owl in the distance.

"You know what? That is your problem," Blaine said, as he bent to his knees, then lay down so that he was flat on his back in the grass. "You are afraid to get a little dirty."

"Not true," Kurt shook his head. "I—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. The night of Puck's party, which, apparently, I am never going to live down," Blaine said, placing his hands behind his head. "Forget about that for a minute and get down here."

"Not a chance," Kurt declared. "It's filthy."

"Like I said, afraid to get a little dirty," Blaine rolled his eyes. "Which is why I came prepared."

Kurt watched as Blaine climbed to his feet and began walking back to the car. Kurt tried to follow, but Blaine gestured for him to wait where he was, so he did. A minute later, Blaine reappeared holding a blanket.

Kurt gaped at him. This was very much out of character for Blaine, or at least it was very much out of character for public Blaine. When they were alone, he sometimes said and did things that surprised Kurt, but this was a little far out.

"You.."

"Told you I was busy planning stuff," Blaine smiled, happily, as he spread the blanket down on the grass. He lay back down and patted the blanket for Kurt to lay down beside him.

Kurt stood for another moment, then shook his head and climbed down to sit next to Blaine.

"So, what's this all about?" Kurt asked, looking down at the other boy, who was still smiling, the bright stars reflected in his darker eyes.

"It's your birthday," Blaine provided. Kurt looked at him questioningly. "What?"

"It's just.. I wasn't expecting this."

"Duh," Blaine said. "That's the whole point of a surprise."

Kurt smiled a little, studying Blaine, his face all shadows and contours in the light of the moon. He looked so peaceful lying there. It was the first time since Kurt had met him that he looked truly happy.

"Come on, lie down and look up," Blaine said, reaching across and tugging on Kurt's sleeve. He gave in and lay down next to him and looked up at the velvet sky. Clusters of silver stars were spread over the entire space. The moon was high in the sky, it's glow covering the entire landscape below. It was bright and prominent and the entire sight made Kurt feel small and unimportant in comparison.

"I come here sometimes," Blaine said, quietly. "Just to get away."

Kurt said nothing, because there's not a lot a person can say to that.

"It puts everything in perspective, doesn't it?" Blaine continued. "I mean, I look up at all of that and I realise everything I consider vital in the world just—_isn't_. I forget that when I step back into reality, but that's why I like to come here. Because it makes me feel like I can just let go and understand who I am and what I should be doing and just—I don't know. It feels right when I'm here. Is that stupid?"

"Not at all," Kurt assured him. "You come here on your own?"

"Yeah."

"Blaine, that's so dangerous," Kurt shook his head, his eyes still locked on the sky, the stars' luminosity causing his vision to blur a little. "This is the perfect place to commit a murder."

"Way to ruin my sensitive moment, Hummel," Blaine joked, sitting up. Kurt sat up, too and smiled.

"Sorry."

Blaine sighed, happily.

"Don't you feel like you could do anything here?"

"Like commit a murder?"

Blaine snorted and rolled his eyes, the moon reflected in them, bringing out the flecks of orange.

"I'm serious, though," he said. "I feel like I'm not afraid of anything, right now."

"Is that a huge contrast from how you usually feel?" Kurt asked, curiously.

"Maybe," Blaine shrugged, head tilted back, eyes raised to the sky.

Kurt studied him sitting there, a sad smile on his lips, his eyes literally twinkling in the light of the celestial beings above. Blaine caught him staring when he dropped his gaze. He locked his eyes on Kurt's and smiled at him. A few seconds passed and Blaine shifted his body and leaned his head closer to Kurt's. He didn't do anything for a long time, then closed the space between their lips and kissed him softly. There was no tongue, no hunger, it was just sweet and calm, like it was all he needed, just to feel close to someone.

"What are you so afraid of?" Kurt whispered, once they'd pulled apart. Blaine stared at him, his eyes dilated and a shade darker now. His lips were parted and his breath was coming faster, emitting small, white, cloudy puffs of air in the cool night.

"Myself," Blaine uttered, finally and his lips found Kurt's again. His hand rested gently on the side of Kurt's jaw. It was trembling a little and Kurt's skin was tingling at the contact. Kurt opened his eyes and looked at Blaine, whose eyes were closed. He was murmuring against his lips and Kurt's blood was humming in his veins and all he wanted to do was to stay like this for as long as humanly possible. He couldn't tell him they weren't doing this any more, not now. He couldn't and he wouldn't and God, he didn't want to.

The pulled away again and Blaine smiled shyly, his face flushed, a sheen of the moon's light all across one side of his face. Kurt smiled, too.

"I almost forgot," Blaine cleared his throat and reached inside his jacket. Kurt watched him with inquisitive eyes as he produced a small box. He turned back to Kurt, his eyes darting around a little.

"This might be the most cheesy thing I've ever done in my entire existence," Blaine laughed a little. "But I just thought—it just felt right, okay? Here."

Kurt took the box from Blaine's shaking hands, their fingers brushing in the exchange. Kurt's heart was beating unusually fast as he tore the striped paper off slowly and carefully. He lifted the lid and stared down into the red tissue paper. A small, rectangular silver plate lay in the middle, with a thin chain extending from either end, disappearing into the red crumpled paper beneath.

Kurt took it gently between his fingers, aware of Blaine's nervous gaze on him and held it up in the light. There were words on the small plate, etched in cursive writing.

_"I want to take you far from the cynics in this town _

_and kiss you on the mouth."_

Kurt's heart stilled in his chest and he raised his ice blue eyes to Blaine, speechless.

"I.. I know it's p-probably tacky a-and stupid and not, like, what you would usually wear, because y-you're so, you know, _you,_" Blaine said, stammering. "But I didn't want t-to get you nothing and the words have been just playing on m-my mind and it just.. I had to do it."

"Blaine, it's.." Kurt trailed off, shaking his head, words escaping him.

"It's okay," Blaine said, quickly. "It's perfectly fine if you don't want it, I didn't think you would anyway, I just sort of wanted to, because—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, firmly. "Stop. Stop. It's.. It's _perfect. _Thank you."

Blaine's face was frozen and his eyes were wide, but Kurt could see he was relieved from the way he allowed his shoulders to slump.

"Y—You like it?"

"How could I not?" he said, smiling and Blaine smiled, too, then. "Thank you," Kurt said, again. He leaned across to kiss him again and Blaine let him, a small gasp escaping his lips.

Blaine was the most unpredictable person Kurt had ever met. He was an idiot, that was irrefutable, but when he was like this, Kurt just wasn't sure. Yeah, he still wasn't acting as he wanted him to in school and stuff, but this Blaine sort of made up for that. Kurt felt stupid for feeling what he did, but he couldn't help it. This was real and maybe Blaine couldn't give him everything, but for now, it felt right and it felt enough.

"I don't get you," Kurt told him, once they'd broken away.

"Makes two of us," Blaine laughed half-heartedly. "Here," he said, reaching across to grab the bracelet out of Kurt's lap. Kurt held out a hand and Blaine closed the bracelet around his thin wrist. They both looked down at it for a long time, then Blaine raised his hazel eyes to Kurt's blue-green ones.

"I don't know what this is—us, I mean, but I... Like I said, I feel like I can do anything when I'm here," Blaine told him, his voice low. "I just—I know how I feel when I'm here, Kurt and.. I don't know. I can't say it, not out loud, because of everything that would mean, but I just wanted you to know that—I've never brought anyone else here before. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Blaine was gazing at him with those eyes of his and Kurt was trying to keep his head together. He guessed he sort of knew what Blaine was saying. It was confusing and he was speaking in riddles, but he understood that he meant something to him at least.

Kurt only nodded.

"And that," Blaine pointed down at the bracelet on Kurt's pale wrist. "That doesn't have to mean anything if you don't want it to."

"What if I do?" Kurt asked, boldly, heart racing again.

Blaine eyed him for a while, then smiled a little bit, just the very corners of his mouth tilting upwards an inch.

"Well, in that case," he said. "It means something."

And Kurt's heart stopped and Blaine's mouth was on his again and he knew there were so many things wrong and that they would go back to the strained friendship they had before, but he just couldn't bring himself to care at that moment. It was his birthday and he would have his fun for this one day, out of the entire year. This was his day.

"I should get you home," Blaine said, looking down at his watch.

"Yeah," Kurt sighed, not wanting to move from where they sat. Blaine stood first and offered Kurt a hand. He took it, gingerly, then felt Blaine's warm fingers entwining with his own. They gathered up the blanket and walked back to the car, hand in hand.

"This is so weird," Blaine whispered, but made no attempts to break away.

"Maybe," Kurt told him, as he opened the trunk to throw the blanket in. "Why are your clothes in here?"

"Mom and dad had another fight," Blaine frowned. "I'm not going home, so I brought those with me for school tomorrow."

Kurt looked at him funnily. He was serious.

"Where are you going to go?"

"I was thinking about coming back here and waiting until morning," he shrugged one shoulder.

Kurt swung around to face him, their hands still clasped.

"You can't stay here all night," he informed him.

"I've done it before—"

"That was before you met a very fashionable, talented sucker who would offer to take you in for the night," Kurt smiled.

Blaine smiled a little, too.

"You don't have to."

"Yes," Kurt told him. "I do. I couldn't live with myself if I knew you'd gotten murdered out here. And on my birthday, too."

"I won't get murdered, Hummel," Blaine grinned from ear to ear.

"Even still," Kurt said, squeezing Blaine's hand, gently. "You're coming home with me."

"And this isn't just because you think this will be a repeat of the night of Puck's party?" Blaine smirked.

"Ha-ha, yeah, _you wish_, Anderson," Kurt snorted. "Come on, let's go."

They broke hands reluctantly and climbed in the car and drove back out onto the roads. It was unusual and felt strange and neither of them understood it. The only thing they did know, was that it felt right and neither of them wanted it to end.

* * *

><p><strong>The next chapter will be up tomorrow, I promise. Let me know what you thought of this one :)<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**I own nothing! Firstly, I didn't get this finished yesterday. I said I would post, so I'm sorry! It always takes me longer to write the smut for some reason lol. And secondly, yeah, there's smut. This turned out to be a long, long chapter, but I like how it turned out, I think. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12:<strong>

The lights were on full blast and Kurt was walking around his room, flinging random items of clothing, which he had obviously thrown around to look for something to wear after Blaine had woken him up, into his closet. Blaine lay stomach down on Kurt's bed, his head resting in his hands, elbows leaning into the bed, watching him with some intent.

Kurt's movements were like fluid. He moved with a kind of grace that Blaine had never seen anyone else move with. It reminded Blaine of the way the trees danced to-and-fro in the light breeze, so gentle and docile, but still strong and grounded.

Also, Kurt was wearing really tight pants again. They left so little to the imagination in the rear area and Blaine felt a little dazed as he watched him drifting across the room, his hips twisting, his entire backside defined by the thin layer of tight, tight material that covered it.

"You should stop cleaning and come over here," Blaine told Kurt, his eyes caressing the soft curve of Kurt's hips, the slant of his back and where it fell down into the swell of his taut, round—

"What?" Kurt said, knocking him from his reverie, but Blaine didn't drop his gaze. "Sorry, I didn't hear you."

"I said," Blaine said sitting up and crossing his legs, because he did not want Kurt to see what was happening in his nether regions. "Stop cleaning and come here."

Kurt stopped still and turned to face him. Blaine frowned because it was as if he had been denied access to viewing Kurt's ass. He shouldn't have been as interested as he was, but tonight he was giving in to himself, just for this one night.

Blaine's day had gone pretty badly. After school, he had gone home and his parents were fighting again. It was nothing new, really, but his mom was crying and his dad was shouting and the intensity of it all had sent him flying over the edge. His father had threatened so many things in the past, but it had seemed as if he had finally snapped, because Blaine had had to wrestle him away from the cabinets where they kept the kitchen knives. He knew, deep down, that his father wouldn't really do anything with them, but the entire situation had been so frantic and frightening that he just could not risk it.

It had rattled him to the core. His body had shook, his head ached and he fought the urge to cry. His dad looked deranged, sitting there on the couch looking angered one minute and jumping up out of his seat and racing into the kitchen, shouting numerous threats the next.

It had probably been the worst day of his entire life.

His dad had left the house, slamming the door, sending a large tremor through the hallway and all through Blaine. Blaine made sure his mother had taken her medication, before placing her in bed, then he left the house, angry, confused and scared. He had had enough. He was tired of fighting, tired of pretending, tired of everything.

And that was what had made him do what he did for Kurt. He had planned on simply calling him that night, wishing him a happy birthday and leaving it at that, but he felt like he needed to do more, because Kurt deserved more.

The entire charade at home had left him far too tired to keep his guard up. He just wanted to let go for a while, so he'd gone to the mall and picked out the bracelet and had it engraved and then he'd driven aimlessly for a while, trying to plan out what he would do. When he had decided, he'd gone home to check on his mom. There was a voice message on the machine from his dad, saying he wouldn't be home tonight, which made Blaine feel better about leaving his mother alone. Then he'd waited it out and packed his things into the car and gone over to Kurt's.

"But I'm almost done," Kurt told him, his hands resting gently on those hips of his.

"Come _on, _Kurt," Blaine said, careful to use his first name. "I don't care what your room looks like, I just want you to stop pacing back and forth like a father expecting his first born."

It wasn't that it wasn't a pretty sight, Blaine just wanted to touch him with his hands instead of watching him with his eyes.

"Fine," Kurt muttered, closing his closet door. He switched out the light, leaving them almost in complete darkness. The light of the moon slipped in the small windows and a small lamp was still lit in the corner. Kurt walked back across the room, then his eyes found Blaine's and he smirked. "Were you just checking out my ass?"

He was busted once again.

"Hard not to when you're walking around like that," Blaine admitted, smirking, too. "How on earth do you get into those things?"

"It takes extreme skill," Kurt gave him a wink, then continued walking towards the bed. Blaine's hand shot out before he could stop himself and he was pulling Kurt back by the belt loop of his pants. Kurt made a small gasping sound as Blaine pulled him down to kneel next to him on the bed. "What are you doing?"

"Getting a closer look," Blaine told him and he saw Kurt frown and then smile in the space of two seconds.

"I am strictly 'look but don't touch', Anderson," Kurt informed him, nose in the air. "So don't even think about i—ahh!"

Blaine had tugged Kurt by the arm so that he fell forward. he caught his lips with his and pulled him down on top of him. Kurt didn't protest, he simply kissed him back and Blaine wished he could do this forever, just kiss Kurt and not have to worry about the consequences, or what it meant, or what people would think. He just wanted to kiss him and let himself go for a little while.

Somehow, Blaine's hands had subconsciously crawled down Kurt's back and found the swell of his backside. He could feel the outline of Kurt's underwear beneath them, his fingers moving slowly back and forth across the lines and the creases and the parting in the middle and _God_, those were some sinful sounds escaping Kurt's mouth every time Blaine brought a finger slowly along the line where the crack of his ass was situated. He did it again and again, just so that he could make Kurt emit that sound again.

Blaine's mouth felt tired, but he didn't want to stop kissing Kurt, because every time they stopped, they seemed to look at each other with a smile, which would soon fade to a frown, as they both realised that this was a mistake and that it wasn't supposed to be. It never felt like a mistake, at least not any more and as for meant to be..

Blaine's right hand had slid around the front of Kurt's pants and was unclasping the button at the top. Kurt was making no attempts to pull away and Blaine just wanted to feel Kurt's bare skin beneath his touch. He felt dizzy and giddy and he just couldn't pull back, couldn't bring himself to stop doing this. He wanted it and he wasn't going to fight himself, not this time. He would deal with the consequences when he crossed that bridge later.

He pushed the tight fitted pants downwards and Kurt's hips were grinding lightly against his own and _oh, _Kurt was semi-hard and Blaine was, too and the friction was perfect and he needed more, he wasn't sure how much more, he just knew that he did.

Blaine's hands slid Kurt's briefs down, they followed the same route as the pants and then Blaine pushed them past Kurt's ankles and they fell to the carpeted floor. Blaine hands quickly found their way back on to Kurt's back side and his fingers repeated the same patterns he had made when the pants had been in place. Now Kurt was really making some sinful sounds. Sinful didn't even begin to explain it.

"Blaine," Kurt breathed against Blaine's lips. "Blaine, _please._"

"What?" Blaine asked, voice unsteady. "What do you want me to do?"

Kurt arched his back, his ass pushing against Blaine's hands and Blaine was confused for a moment, until he felt Kurt pushing himself against his finger and _wow,_ suddenly the idea of his fingers inside Kurt was very appealing indeed.

"Oh," Blaine panted. "Oh, okay. I've never.. I mean.." he trailed off.

"I know," Kurt told him, leaning away. Blaine sat up in protest, but Kurt had only leaned across to the side table. He came back, his body falling against Blaine's again, sending small electric shocks all through Blaine's body and handed him a small bottle.

Blaine contorted his face in confusion, then it dawned on him. _That was lube._

"Oh," he said, again, feeling stupid, but Kurt didn't seem to notice. Blaine took the bottle from him, hands shaking.

"You don't have to," Kurt reminded him.

"I want to," he said and he really did want to, more than anything else at that moment.

"Blaine," Kurt whispered, lips close to his again. "Do you think you could.. maybe lose the shirt, or something? Just so that I don't feel too.. exposed, or.. or whatever?"

Blaine didn't think twice, he simply raised himself upwards and tugged the shirt off over his head, before flinging it away into the darkness. Blaine sat back and uncapped the bottle. His heart was beating wildly as he turned the bottle upside down and pressed a small blob onto his finger.

"You don't have to," Kurt said, again.

"I want to," Blaine repeated. "I just—I need your help. I've never done anything like—like this."

Kurt gave a small nod and Blaine lowered his hand, his eyes never leaving Kurt's. Kurt's blue eyes were a shade darker in the light of the small lamp. Blaine felt Kurt's hips shifting, his legs on either side of Blaine's own hips and he realised Kurt was spreading himself for his hand.

"Oh, God," Blaine exhaled, as he pressed the tip of his first finger to Kurt's opening.

"You're sure about this?" Kurt asked in a strangled voice.

Blaine didn't want these doubts in his mind. He just wanted to do whatever he felt like doing. He gave Kurt a nod and concentrated on pushing his finger past the first ring of muscle. It felt strange and good and all these things he couldn't explain.

Kurt was letting out little moans and grunts as Blaine watched him in awe, his finger still pushing through. Kurt's expression was one of rapt and his eyes were shut tight, pale lashes fluttering a little, his lips parted, small sounds escaping them.

"Can I try a second or is this..?"

"Yes," Kurt hissed. "Please. Yes."

He used the lube again and worked in a second finger. This was all so new. Kurt talked him through it, telling him to scissor his fingers and to crook them here and bend them there and when Blaine crooked, Kurt tightened and he let out this sound that made Blaine want to drop to his knees and laugh or cry or scream or do something crazy, because this was really happening and he'd be damned if he said he didn't like it.

Blaine didn't want to cry, or do anything dumb, so he caught Kurt's open mouth with his own and sucked his swelled bottom lip. Kurt was panting against Blaine's mouth and Blaine was still moving and Kurt looked and felt and sounded amazing and Blaine was losing it, his own erection straining inside his pants.

"Kurt," Blaine found himself saying. "I want you. I just—_I want you_."

Kurt froze and pulled back from Blaine's mouth, his dilated eyes bright and studious and Blaine was breathing too quickly and everything felt like a blur, yet very real at the same time.

"Wh-what do you want?" Kurt asked, in a hushed tone.

"You," Blaine told him. "Please Kurt."

Kurt gasped as Blaine raised his hips and ground himself against his. Blaine slipped his fingers out of Kurt's body and Kurt sat back on his knees and raised his own shirt, now sticking to his body, over his head. He was completely naked now and Blaine could only stare up at him, open mouthed. Kurt was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and there was no point in denying it. The light of the moon cascaded across his already pale skin, casting a luminous glow down his chest and across his legs and God, Blaine couldn't remember the last time he had felt so turned on.

Kurt's hands were fumbling with Blaine's jeans and it took him a few minutes to get them off entirely. He slid his underwear off, then, too and Blaine felt exposed and as if a weight had been lifted off. It was strange and wonderful and painful and beautiful and scary and gorgeous and all of these words that suddenly had little meaning because Kurt's light touch was surrounding his throbbing cock. Blaine gasped and then whined and Kurt's movements were coming harder and faster and Blaine just needed him, all of him, in every single way possible.

Suddenly, all Blaine could think about was Kurt inside him, Kurt moving above him, Kurt pushing himself back and forth, in and out of the shadows, into the light and back out again.

"Kurt, please," he said, not for the first time that day. "I need you. _Want you_."

"What.. what do you want?" Kurt asked again. "You have to.. just tell me. I don't know what you want."

"You," Blaine hissed into Kurt's ear. "I want _you_."

Kurt seemed to figure out exactly what Blaine meant by that, because he went still.

"Are—you're sure?"

"Never been more sure about anything," Blaine affirmed. "_Please._"

Kurt watched him, that ice blue gaze sweeping over him and Blaine shuddered. Then Kurt finally spoke.

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Kurt's fingers were working their way back and forth, in and out of Blaine's tight opening. They were moving easily, now, the lube doing its job. Kurt watched Blaine fucking himself down on his fingers in what could only be described as amazement. He could hardly believe this was really happening and everything felt sort of like a dream.<p>

There were no real words to describe just how Blaine Anderson looked writhing beneath him on his bed, with Kurt's fingers sliding in and out of him. Kurt tried to think, but words escaped him and what few words that he could think of seemed senseless and meaningless and who even needed words when things like this were possible?

Blaine's head was thrown back, his eyes half-lidded, those dark lashes shivering with his every movement. His chest was rising and falling quickly and his lips were parted and his hands were gripping the material of the bedclothes beneath them.

"I-I'm ready," Blaine choked out after a while. "Please, Kurt. God, I'm ready."

Kurt's heart was hammering in his chest at the thought of what was about to happen. He was going to push himself inside of Blaine Anderson. The idea made him want to laugh, or maybe cry, because he really, really wanted this and yes, maybe that was crazy and naive of him, but it wasn't as if he could help it, especially not when Blaine looked like he did.

Kurt retracted his fingers and Blaine cried out at the loss of contact. Kurt rolled the condom on, then took the lube again and coated it over his twitching cock, some of it dropping onto his thighs like a frozen kiss hitting his skin. He spread it over his length, then moved to line himself up with Blaine's stretched opening. He took a deep breath, looked down into Blaine's honey coloured eyes. They were glazed and wide and he gave a small nod. Kurt took this as a signal to move forward, so he did, very slowly, almost painfully so. He kept moving, until Blaine cried out in protest.

"Sorry," Kurt muttered, his body aching. He just needed to tilt his hips and he would be all the way in. It was frustrating, he didn't want to push him, didn't want to hurt him, but God, he looked so.. so—_hot. _Yes, he couldn't deny it, Blaine Anderson was the hottest thing he had ever encountered and if he didn't—

Blaine pushed himself forward and Kurt was suddenly buried deep inside him.

"_Jesus, _Blaine_,"_ Kurt said, his voice coming out guttural. "Warn a guy."

Blaine was groaning quietly, his head thrown further back now, his eyes shut tightly. Kurt looked down at him in concern, his length still throbbing painfully.

"Are you okay? How do you feel?" Kurt asked, swallowing hard. Blaine looked more perfect than anything he had ever seen in his entire life. Kurt knew he was being stupid, allowing this to happen, allowing himself to do this with Blaine, because tomorrow, things would be go back to being the same, maybe worse. But he couldn't say no, not when Blaine looked like he did and not when those words, pleading and begging and so needy were escaping his swelled mouth. Kurt had given in without so much as a second thought.

He was waiting, waiting for him to settle and get used to the feeling and Kurt just needed him to give him the go ahead because the tightness and the warmth of Blaine around was enough to send even the most patient of guys over the edge.

"I—full. Like, really full, but—yeah," Blaine nodded, eyes shutting tightly and then opening again. "I'm okay, just—don't move, okay?"

Kurt nodded, mentally groaning. Blaine was all shadows in the light of the moon and the glowing lamp light and Kurt couldn't take his eyes off of him. Blaine's eyes weren't bright, they were dark and filled with something Kurt couldn't quite place. They were shining in the opalescent light and Kurt thought again that he had never seen anybody look more beautiful.

"Okay," Blaine said, soon after. "Can we go like—really slowly?"

"Definitely," Kurt nodded and eased himself backwards. Blaine held his breath, until Kurt slid back in. They repeated this for a long time, until Kurt was moving more freely and Blaine wasn't protesting as much and he didn't feel like he was putting him through too much torture any more. Kurt moved then, harder and faster and Blaine was thrusting his hips forward to meet Kurt and soon they had found a rhythm and their mouths were emitting these sounds that could have passed for both pleasure and pain, their moans mingling and Kurt felt dizzy and the world was spinning and his mind and heart and the blood in his veins were racing and he could feel the climax building and building and building and God, he was so, so close.

Blaine's hand reached down to grasp his own hard cock, now resting against his stomach and Kurt could only stare as he moved his hand back and forth with an almost practiced ease and in the midst of everything, Kurt wondered if Blaine had ever done this and imagined Kurt above him, or below him, or just anywhere near him really, because all that mattered to Kurt was that he even thought of him at all.

He knew Blaine was close then when his hips started to move more quickly, jerking randomly every few moments and his legs tightened around Kurt's waist. Kurt was close, too, his stomach clenching and unclenching and just looking down at Blaine was pushing him closer and closer to that point. Every time Kurt inched forward and hit that spot, Blaine whined almost distressingly and it made Kurt crazy, just to hear him making those sounds and it made him even crazier when he reminded himself that he was making those sounds because of _him._

Blaine came first, with a groan that sounded suspiciously like Kurt's name and he was shooting white streams all up his own chest and on Kurt's, too and the sight of this brought Kurt almost instantly into full orgasm. He felt the world whitening around the edges, his mind going fuzzy, his blood running like electricity through his veins and he was coming, his hips plunging back and forth rapidly and Blaine was crying out and Kurt heard Blaine's name being called, before realising he had been the one to call it and then their movements had slowed and they were breathing heavily, the heat between their bodies almost stifling.

Kurt eased himself out of Blaine, who looked worn out, his eyes closed, the lick of moonlight caressing his milky eyelids and those long, thick lashes. Kurt grabbed a handful of tissues from his side table and cleaned both of them off, before wrapping the used condom in the tissue and flinging it across the room towards the bin. He couldn't find the strength to stand and make sure it had made it.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked again, laying down next to Blaine, his body tired.

"I'm okay," Blaine replied, breathlessly. "I'm okay."

* * *

><p>Blaine felt the brisk cold against his skin and he snapped his eyes open. He sat up in the dark, the lamp no longer lighting (he thought Kurt must have turned it off) and the light slipping through the windows was brighter now than it had been earlier.<p>

Blaine tilted his head to the side to look at Kurt sleeping there, next to him, both of them naked and very white in the light of the moon, both laying over the covers. Blaine was freezing and figured Kurt must be, too, so he reached around him and tried to pull the covers so that they both ended up underneath.

Kurt woke suddenly, his eyes blinking frantically open.

"Sorry," Blaine muttered, pulling the covers around them.

He lay back and breathed, his mind recalling everything that had gone on just hours before. Panic was setting in now and Blaine sat up, eyes wide.

"Shit," he muttered. "I can't believe—we—I mean.."

"Blaine?" Kurt sat up, too, eyes filled with concern.

"We—we had—"  
>"Sex, yeah," Kurt said and even he sounded a little stunned.<p>

"That wasn't supposed to hap—I mean. I don't know what I mean." It was strange. Regret wasn't the right word. He wasn't sure he regretted it, as such. He simply wasn't sure why or how it had happened. Blaine's heart was thumping against his ribcage in time with the small, short breaths escaping his mouth. This was bad, really, really bad.

"Why didn't you say you didn't want it?" Kurt asked and Blaine detected something in his voice. _Hurt_, he thought. "I asked you and you said you were sure. If you weren't sure you should have—"

"I know," Blaine said and he did know. He should have said no. Why hadn't he said no? "God, this is a mess. How do we fix this? What am I saying? We can't fix this. It—Oh, God."

Kurt sighed and looked down at his hands and Blaine was too afraid and shocked, but he still wanted to tell him to look up and not look so beat up about it all. He had a feeling Kurt was upset for different reasons. Blaine shifted a little and the burning pain shot through him.

"_Fuck_," he hissed. "Oh, God. I just realised I lost my virginity. _Again_."

"Me, too," Kurt said, quietly. "But for the first time."

Blaine turned his head to look at him. Suddenly things seemed a million times worse.

"I—I took your virginity?" Blaine asked, softly and Kurt nodded, his gaze locked on his hands still. Blaine looked down at Kurt's hands, too, the bracelet he had given him resting softly on Kurt's small wrist. "I'm a horrible person," he realised.

Kurt didn't object, or say anything in response at all.

"Kurt," Blaine moved to face him, ignoring the discomfort as best as he could. "I'm sorry. This—I mean, losing.. _it_ is supposed to mean something, right? I mean, for me it didn't, but for you. It's supposed to, isn't it?"

Kurt only shrugged. Kurt deserved better than this, deserved all the good things in the world.

"I'm sorry I freaked out," Blaine told him, truthfully. He felt awful. "And it's your birthday, too."

Kurt still remained silent, so Blaine went on.

"You lost your virginity on your birthday and I reacted like an idiot," Blaine shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't think. I shouldn't have said all that, I—"

"All you had to do was say no," Kurt said. "If you didn't want to, you should have just said no."

"Except I did want it, didn't I?" Blaine said, feeling a little ill, because it was true. "Clearly. I mean, I sort of asked you to.."

"Begged feels like a more accurate word."

"Did you want to?" Blaine asked, curiously.

"If I hadn't, I wouldn't have done it."

"Me, too, I guess," Blaine said, thoughtfully. "I didn't know you were a virgin beforehand. I wouldn't have panicked so much, I would have—I don't know. I just don't want you to feel bad about it, because it's supposed to be, like, you know—um, special, or whatever. Plus, it's your birthday. I just—I'm sorry I overreacted."

"It's okay."

"It's not," Blaine declared. "I feel horrible now."  
>"Blaine, it's okay—"<p>

"Come here," Blaine pressed his hands into the sheets and found Kurt's lips with his own and he could not shake the feeling that something had finally clicked. He wasn't sure what, but something was different now, within him, though he couldn't have said what.

"If you had it back," Kurt asked, in a whisper, his breath warm against Blaine's lips. "Would you have said no?"

Blaine thought about it for a long time, working everything out in his head, before answering, truthfully and from the bottom of his heart.

"No," he said. "I would have done exactly the same thing."

He lay back down and gestured for Kurt to do the same. He did and they lay facing each other. Kurt's face was so pale and smooth and the moon light was very flattering on him. Blaine smiled and moved in closer, until all that was left to do was to place an arm around Kurt's waist and pull him close to him. He did so cautiously and Kurt smiled at him, the smile evident in his cyan blue gaze and Blaine thought to himself that he would wrap his arms around Kurt time and time again, if only it meant that he would continue to smile at him like that.

* * *

><p>Blaine's fingers flitted across the smooth, pale skin stretched over the bones of Kurt's back. His back was unblemished, flawless and ashen, like cream, as Blaine ran his hand gently across the sharp peaks of his shoulder blades. His back was rising and falling evenly, as he breathed in his sleep, his body humming a little, small snoring sounds slipping from his mouth.<p>

Kurt was lying on his stomach, his head turned sideways, facing Blaine and he could not tear his gaze from him. No one else in the world was like Kurt, nobody.

Blaine's fingers continued to dance across the other boy's pale skin, lightly kissing it with his finger tips. Kurt opened his eyes, slowly, his light coloured lashes fluttering as he blinked himself awake. There was something about the way that Kurt blinked that just did something to Blaine. It was a stupid little detail, probably a creepy thing to notice, but when Kurt blinked he did it slowly and almost in slow motion, it was as if when he closed his eyes he had a million and one secrets hidden behind those wan lids, secrets no one could see, secrets that would never slip out because he blinked so slowly and carefully that they couldn't get past his watchful gaze. It was ridiculous, but it was as if he blinked with the same grace that his body moved when he walked.

"Hi," Blaine whispered.

Blaine saw the realisation spill onto Kurt's face, his mouth, which had been in a neutral position, developed into a frown, his eyes saddened and he shifted his body away from Blaine's touch. Blaine gave him a perplexed look.

"Don't pretend like it's okay just to make me feel better," Kurt said, shaking his head adamantly and sitting up straight. He pulled the covers up covering his unflawed chest.

"Kurt, I—"

"Go ahead and freak out," Kurt said. "I can see the panic in your eyes, Blaine, so just get it over with, so we can add it to the ever-growing list of bad things that keep on happening between us."

"But Kurt—"

"Also, this," Kurt said and he unclasped the bracelet from around his wrist and dropped in on top of Blaine's covered legs. It spilled down into a silver pile. "You should take this back and—I don't know, give it to your _girlfriend._"

Kurt flung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. His legs wobbled a little and then he crossed the room and produced a pair of briefs from his drawer and pulled them on. Blaine sat up.

"Kurt, I—"

"Don't want to hear it," Kurt said, now holding a pile of clothes and walking inside the bathroom. He closed the door with a slam.

Blaine sat there for another few moments, thinking, twisting the silver bracelet between his fingers. He needed to put Kurt straight, tell him how it really was. If he could just get him to listen to him.

* * *

><p>Kurt opened the bathroom door after standing there taking deep breaths for ten minutes. He walked out and Blaine was sitting on the edge of his now made bed, wearing just his jeans. Kurt turned his gaze away from him and he heard Blaine sigh. Kurt walked past him, rolling his blue eyes. Blaine stood up and followed him.<p>

"Kurt—"

"Don't," Kurt warned, as Blaine's hand came down on his shoulder.

"Can you just listen to me for a minute?" Blaine asked, sighing again. Kurt shrugged him off and started rooting around his room, looking for nothing in particular, but he needed to look busy. "Kurt, just—I—look, don't be like this."

"Don't be like what, Blaine?" Kurt snapped, moving bottles and containers around on his dresser. "Don't get mad because you change like the weather? Don't act like I made the biggest mistake of my life last night?"

"Don't say that," Blaine whispered.

"Why not?" Kurt said. "That's what it was, wasn't it? A mistake? Like every single thing that happens between us? All one big mistake."

"No," Blaine said. "No. Maybe at first it was a mistake, when we started—well. Whatever this is. But not last night," Blaine went on and Kurt stopped shuffling through his things. He stood still, facing the wall. "Last night wasn't a mistake."

Kurt was stuck to the spot. His insides were whirling and he felt dizzy.

"What was it then?" he asked, quietly.

He felt Blaine's hands coming down on his arms, gently and he turned him to face him.

"I wanted it," Blaine told him. "I wanted _you._"

Kurt stayed silent, a lump forming in his throat. He wouldn't cry, he would not cry.

"I know I panicked a little bit afterwards," Blaine continued speaking, his hands pinning Kurt's arms to his sides. "But sometimes—most of the time—I don't understand why these things are happening and I—I'm _scared. _But I meant what I said last night," Blaine gave Kurt an encouraging nod, his honey hazel eyes wide and locked with Kurt's blue-green ones. "If I had it back, I would still do it, because—because it—I.. I liked it. You. I like you. I can't say what that means, partially because I don't know and partially because I—well, like I said, I'm scared. And I don't know what it means now, but I promise you I don't consider it a mistake or-or a regret, or whatever. I knew exactly what was happening, no excuses."

Kurt let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and he felt the tears welling in his eyes. He wasn't teary eyed because he was weak, he was teary eyed because he'd lost his virginity last night and he'd thought Blaine was going to shrug it off, act like it was nothing, a mistake and when Blaine had reacted the way that he had the night before, Kurt felt like he had been humiliated, but now..

"Here," Blaine said, reaching down and taking Kurt's hand in his. He slipped his other hand into his pocket and pulled out the bracelet. He wrapped it around Kurt's wrist again and slipped the clasp shut. "I could never give this to Quinn. It's yours."

"B-but she's your girlfriend," Kurt said, voice breaking.

"She doesn't really mean anything to me," Blaine shrugged.

Kurt sniffed and laughed a little.

"That's horrible," he said and Blaine smiled, his hand still entwined with Kurt's.

"Maybe," he chuckled. "But it's true. I couldn't give her this," Blaine said, running his thumb over the cool metal of the bracelet. Kurt shuddered as Blaine's thumb continued down onto the sensitive skin of his wrist.

Blaine's eyes fell on Kurt's again and they stared at one another for a few heart beats. Blaine was smiling a little and Kurt's body was surging with relief and fear and happiness and just about every emotion possible. He felt a single tear escaping his eyes and trickling down his cheek.

"Hey," Blaine reached up and caught it with his thumb. "Don't cry."

"Sorry," Kurt said, looking away, embarrassed. The last thing he had wanted to do was cry in front of Blaine, whose opinion meant a lot to him, even if he didn't always want to admit it.

"Don't be sorry," Blaine said. "I'm sorry. I'm an asshole. It's your birthday and you've lost your virginity and you're crying and I just—I screw everything up, really. I don't know why you put up with me."

"Sometimes, it's worth it," Kurt said, half-joking. It was true, Blaine was an asshole most of the time, but sometimes he surprised Kurt and at those times, Kurt found that he understood why he wanted to be near him so often. Blaine was still very much a mystery, but he was solving more clues every single day.

"What about you?" Blaine asked. "Do you regret that it was me? That I was your first?"

"No," Kurt said, instantly, because he didn't, not really. Sure, he told himself he was nuts for allowing it to happen, but the truth was he had fallen for Blaine. He hadn't wanted to, because falling for Blaine was suicide, in some sort of metaphorical sense, he was sure of it, but he couldn't help it. Blaine looked like he did and sometimes he spoke beautifully and he did these romantic things and Kurt liked it when they were along together. Maybe Blaine would always be the bully, the guy he had built himself up to be, but there was definitely more to him than that and now that Kurt had seen this other side of him, there was no going back. He didn't even want to go back.

"You're sure?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. He cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. "So, um, can you walk?"

Blaine laughed out loud, then.

"Just about," he informed him. "Hurts when I do.. well. When I do anything at all."

"Sorry," Kurt gave him a sympathetic smile.

"You don't get to be sorry for this," Blaine told him. "It—it was good, right?"

Kurt stifled a laugh and smiled at Blaine, who was blushing now, his cheekbones a light shade of red.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it was good."

Blaine looked relieved, his shoulders losing some tensity.

"So, are we okay?" he asked, hopefully. "We're good?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "Yeah, we're good, Blaine."

"Okay, good."

"I'm sorry I cried, though," Kurt said, feeling as if he should provide a reason for turning on the waterworks. "I just—everything sort of piled up on me and I lost it a bit. I don't always cry, you know."

"That's okay," Blaine said, a wide grin spreading across his face and it reached his golden eyes. "You're one of those people who look really, really pretty when you cry."

* * *

><p>"That's a funny walk you've got there, Anderson."<p>

Blaine turned around in the empty hallway and saw Karofsky grinning at him from the other end. Blaine sighed and saluted him with his middle finger, before turning away and walking on, his body aching, his backside burning uncomfortably. He knew he was walking funny, he'd been telling people all day that he'd hurt himself during football.

"I didn't have Hummel pegged for a top," Karofsky shouted and people were spilling out of classrooms now. Blaine continued walking, but Karofsky was following him, shouting after him and he just wanted to disappear, to go hide in the bathroom and stay there until it was time to go home.

"I'm talkin' to you, Anderson," Karofsky said, pulling Blaine back by the collar of his jacket. Blaine winced as his body was shoved up against a locker. Everything ached.

"Get the fuck off me, Karofsky," Blaine growled. "You're forgetting I know something about you, something all of them don't know." He gestured at the other students in the hallway, some of them staring in shock as Blaine Anderson got thrown around.

"Who are they going to believe?" Karofsky laughed, cruelly. "You've been walkin' around like you've got a pole shoved up your ass."

Blaine guessed he had a point.

"Fuck off, Karofsky," he said. "Whatever you think is going on isn't, so get the fuck off me or everyone will know about you and Hummel in the janitor's closet and not only will they find out that you're gay," Blaine said, careful not to use the word 'faggot' because it sounded extremely offensive and he could almost feel Kurt disapproving. "They'll also know that you forced yourself on him and you know, I'm pretty sure that attempted rape," Blaine lowered his voice on those words. "Is a criminal offense."

Karofsky looked flustered, then tried to retain his composure. His tightened his grip on Blaine's shoulder and snarled.

"Like I said, Anderson," he went on. "I'm not the one goin' around walking with a limp." Karofsky's voice was raised and people were looking at them plainly now. Blaine wanted to kill him. He wanted to scream the truth, he wanted to punch him and make him pay for everything.

Then Blaine felt the sudden snap of ice hitting his face. Apparently Karofsky had been holding a slushie and Blaine hadn't noticed. Blaine Anderson had never been slushied in his entire life. He guessed there was a first time for everything, as the ice burned into his eyes and seeped down his neck and soaked him through. Then he pushed forward and flung Karofsky onto the ground and he was punching him again, his vision blurred. He kept on hitting until someone pulled him off. People were shouting and everything was a blur. Karofsky climbed to his feet and Blaine felt hands holding him back, not allowing him to pounce back on the big asshole again. Everything really, really hurt, but he wanted to beat Karofsky until he had no more strength left in him to hit.

"Good luck choosing between gay club and football next week, Anderson," Karofsky shouted as he turned away and began walking down the halls. "And if you do man up and decide to come to the game, which I highly doubt, make sure you haven't had a dick up your ass the night before, because we don't need our QB hobbling around the field like a fucking gay asshole."

Blaine opened his mouth to tell Karofsky his insults sucked, but he stopped.

He had a game the day of sectionals.

He was so screwed.

* * *

><p>Kurt stepped out of math class and into the hallways of McKinley High. He saw it then, the huge commotion at the end of the hall and rushed to see what had happened. His heart sank when he saw a soaking wet Blaine breathing heavily, Finn Hudson restraining him, as Karofsky walked away laughing like a rabid hyena.<p>

People began to clear the area then and Kurt waited until Finn had let Blaine go and vacated the hall. He walked up to Blaine then and frowned at him.

"Come on," he said with a sigh. "Let's go clean you up."

Blaine followed behind in silence as Kurt pushed the toilet door open and walked inside. He grabbed a handful of tissues and told Blaine to take a seat on the chair which was always inexplicably by the sinks. Blaine sat and Kurt ran the tissues under the running faucet, then began to clean Blaine's face, stained with red colouring.

"What happened?" he asked, softly, picking shards of ice out of his hair.

"Karofsky's an asshole, that's what happened."  
>"Yeah, but I was already aware of that," Kurt told him. Blaine closed his eyes as Kurt used a damp tissue to rub into them, removing what colouring he could. "What did he do that caused such a scene?"<p>

"Said I was walking funny."

Kurt smiled a little. "Well, you are walking funnily."

"Don't care," Blaine grunted.

"Okay, chill," Kurt said, running his hands under the tap and then pressing his fingers into Blaine's sticky hair. He pushed through the confined curls and scrubbed the slushie flavouring out as best as he could. "You didn't tell everyone what he did, I assume. I mean, he looked pretty confident walking away."

"No," Blaine said. "I kept hearing you telling me how wrong it would be to out him, but I threatened it. And if he does one more fucking thing I'll do it, regardless of whether it's right or wrong. I can't stand him."

Kurt smiled, sadly as he continued to run his fingers through the sticky mess in Blaine's hair. "How does it feel to be slushied?"

"Horrible," Blaine told him, eyes opened and narrowed angrily. "I'm never slushying another person again. Unless it's Karofsky."

"Really," Kurt said, sceptically.

"Yeah, really," Blaine affirmed. "I'm, um, I'm sorry I ever did this to you."

Kurt only waved a hand, shrugging it off. "Are you hurt?" he asked, because Blaine seemed to wince every time he moved.

"I'll be fine."

"Blaine—"

"There's a game the same day as sectionals."

Kurt stopped still. This couldn't go well.

"What are you going to do?" Kurt knew exactly what he was going to do, but he still hoped, because there was another side to Blaine that no one knew and at some point, it had to shine through.

The conflict in Blaine's face was palpable. He sighed and shut his eyes tightly.

"I don't know," he groaned. "I just—I can't not go to the game. My dad, the guys, everything will be.. It'll all be over. Everything will have fallen apart and then what will I have?"

"Me," Kurt said, without thinking and Blaine looked up at him, eyes wide and bright. "You'll still have me."

Blaine was silent for a few moments, then he exhaled heavily and flinched in pain as a result.

"You shouldn't have to deal with this."

"I don't mind," Kurt said, pressing the wet paper towel to Blaine's temple, but he pushed him away, softly.

"No," he shook his head. "I mean all of this. I'm a mess, my whole life is a mess and I'm obviously not going to admit that we're doing what we are any time soon. I shouldn't expect you to put up with that."

* * *

><p>The fact was Kurt deserved better than him. He deserved someone who would be willing to walk down a hallway and proclaim to the world that he was theirs, that he got to kiss him whenever he wanted to, that he made love to him at night. Blaine could never give him that.<p>

"Blaine, I don't—"

"No, please, just listen to me," Blaine sat up a bit, slowly, because it still hurt to move. "Regardless of what I want, I have to do what they expect me to do. I have to go to the game. I have to help them win. I have to go home with Quinn and let her do whatever the hell she wants with me because she believes in celebratory sex." He saw Kurt's face twist when he said that. "I don't mean that as a stab at you, either, I mean it in that it's true. That's who I have to be, Kurt. I don't get to go sing at sectionals because I enjoy it and it feels good and because I'm good at it. I don't get to walk up to you in public and talk to you, let alone anything else. I don't get to go back to your house instead of Quinn's and celebrate with you. I don't get to do any of that.

"You," Blaine went on. "You're so different to anyone I've ever met. I couldn't have admitted that a week ago, certainly not to your face and maybe not even to myself. But that's the truth. I.. I like you, Kurt. I like it when we hang out and stuff and I don't know if I can bring myself to think too deeply into all that, or if I even know how to make head nor tail of it, but that's how it is. If we let this go on, I'm stopping you from actually finding someone who can walk up to you in the hallways and talk to you and even kiss you if they want. I figured we would go on as we were, but I just—it just hit me. I shouldn't have expected that, I shouldn't expect you to stick around and be the.. the.."

"The other woman?" Kurt offered, his lips down turned.

"Well, sort of, though, I don't like that term, because you're not a woman, Kurt," Blaine said. "I just don't think we should do this any more and it's not because I don't want to. It's because I can't. I just—it's over. It has to be over."

Kurt frowned at him for a few seconds, then he dropped the tissues he had been holding into the bin.

"Okay," he said. "Fine, whatever."  
>"Kurt, don't—"<p>

"Don't what?" Kurt asked. "Do you ever think, Blaine? Do you ever think about anyone but yourself?"

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He had been thinking of Kurt when he'd decided to put an end to this. Hell, Kurt was the only thing he ever really thought about any more.

"Did you ever think that maybe I don't want to stop?"

Oh.

"Kurt, look. It's for the best."

"Is it?" Kurt asked. "Because do you know what this proves?"

Blaine waited for him to tell him.

"It proves that you're a bigger coward than I thought," he informed him. "It proves that you're just settling for this stupid, fake life of yours, because you're too afraid, too much of a coward to stand up and show everyone who you really are."

Blaine couldn't speak, he couldn't find words.

"Do you want me to tell you what you are, Blaine?"

He didn't want to know. He didn't want to hear it, because he knew what was coming. Kurt said it anyway.

"You're _gay, _Blaine," he said, voice uneven. "I know that you know that already, though. But you're too afraid to come to terms with it. If you can't even tell yourself the truth, how do you expect anyone else to take you seriously? You're a joke, a coward, a fake idiot who just can't stand up and be who he really is. You're going to be miserable forever. I told you that already and I was sort of winging it when I said it back then, but now I'm absolutely sure.

"You're going to graduate, get into some big college. You're going to stay with Quinn. You're going to marry her and you're going to live in some big house in this stupid town and while you're trying on the expensive suit in the changing rooms of some big, designer store, you're going to be checking out the other guys who are trying on expensive suits, too. Or a few years down the line, you'll go to your kid's football game and you'll catch one of the other dads, another coward, like yourself, you'll catch him smiling at you and you're going to end up a cheater, Blaine. And that's a run down of how your life is going to be. So, yeah, cool. Go do that. I hope it works out for you."

Blaine stared at him, his heart racing, because suddenly everything he was saying felt entirely possible and the notion was really frightening to him. But how could it be possible? He wasn't gay. He wasn't.

"Kurt—"

"I think we've said everything we have to say," Kurt shook his head, talking over him. "Just—don't come near me, okay, Blaine? Just don't even look at me."

And with that, Kurt spun around and walked through the toilet door, disappearing into the hallways. Blaine stayed in the chair for a long, long time, he couldn't have said how long and he tried to think, but his head was spinning and every part of him ached and he just wanted to sleep.

He stood up and went outside, then got in his car and went home to face the equally messed up home life he had left behind him the night before.

Blaine Anderson, the boy who had everything actually, in reality, had nothing, or at least nothing good. His entire life was slipping through his fingers and falling rapidly into a dark abyss and there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry about the angst, except not really lol :). Let me know what you thought! :P<strong>


	13. Chapter 13

**I own nothing (except for the shoes Kurt gets, I actually have those. There's a link to a picture of them on my profile just for the visual lol). Sorry again about not updating yesterday. Going to start the next part now so it's ready for tomorrow :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13:<strong>

"Hey, kid," Burt said with a smile, when Kurt walked through the front door after school that day. "Happy Birthday."

Kurt smiled back. He hadn't had the best day, what with the incident with Blaine and all, but he still smiled, because his dad was sitting there at the kitchen table, a box wrapped in spotted, brightly coloured paper set down in front of him. Next to the box, was a store bought cake with candles shaped in the numbers '1' and '8' on top. He had gone to such effort, the least Kurt could do was show some gratitude.

"Thanks, dad," Kurt said, grinning and going to sit down at the table, too.

"Open it," Burt smiled, pushing the box towards his son.

Kurt ripped at the paper, until it was gone entirely and a brown, cardboard box was revealed. He pulled it open at the top and looked inside.

"Dad," Kurt gasped as he reached inside to lift out the black, shining ankle boots. They were Vivienne Westwood and had three round, golden buttons on the sides, which showed the Vivienne Westwood logo. They smelled like rubber and play dough. "Dad, these are.. this is _amazing_! Thank you so much!" Kurt flung his arms around his father, who hugged him back, chuckling a little.

"You're welcome," Burt said, as they drew away from one another. "I remembered you liked them that time we went shopping, but the assistant said they only had one pair left in a small size."

Kurt remembered that day, too. She had gone on to inform him that they were ladies' shoes anyway, her nose raised in the air.

"They.. they cost a lot, dad," Kurt said, studying the shoes. "You didn't have to."

"Hey," Burt said. "It's not every day your son becomes a man."

Kurt returned his father's smile and he felt grateful. His dad was always there for him, always accepting and willing to learn. A lot of kids didn't have that. Blaine didn't have that. Kurt was lucky.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here this morning, Kurt," Burt said. "I had to get to the garage early."

"It's okay, dad."

"But, hey," Burt smiled, looking right at Kurt. "At least you weren't alone."

Kurt stopped still.

"Wh-what?"

"I know, Kurt."

Kurt's heart sank. He was going to get a lecture now. A very awkward lecture.

"Look, Kurt, is this kid taking advantage of you?"

"What? Dad, no, we both—"

"Listen, kid," Burt went on and Kurt was sure he was the colour of a tomato now. He could feel the heat pressing against his cheeks and up the back of his neck. "I know you've got a good heart, that you can't help it, that you like helping people," he continued. "But you can't just let him think he can keep going out and getting drunk because you're going to let him stay over."

_Oh. _

_Burt didn't know._

Kurt felt relief running through his veins. He let his shoulders slump a little.

"Oh, I know, dad," he said, hoping he looked composed enough. "It's not like that, though. He's not so bad, just—going through a lot. I figured he could use some kindness."

"Well, if you're sure he's not using you.. Hey, where'd you get that?" Burt enquired, pointing at the silver bracelet still around Kurt's wrist.

"Oh! Um, Mercedes," he said, quickly. "It's got a song lyric on it, from the song Rachel and I sang at glee. See?" He held it up for Burt to see. Burt squinted.

"Oh, nice," he said, then shrugged. He pushed the cake towards Kurt, then. The candles were lit, the flames flickering gently. "Well. Blow your candles out and make a wish."

Kurt moved forward, a small smile on his lips and he thought for a minute. He pursed his lips and blew, the flames flickering away until they were nothing.

_Please let Blaine be okay._

He opened his eyes and smiled at his father, hoping his wish would come true.

* * *

><p>Blaine felt different.<p>

He looked different, too.

He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, a pale glow cast over him from the insipid light hanging overhead. There were shadows beneath his eyes, his skin was pale and drawn-looking, his mouth was twisted into a frown. He knew he wasn't really, but he thought he looked shorter, too, which he most definitely did not need.

It was a strange thing, but after being with Kurt, in that way, he didn't feel like the same person any more. It hadn't been like this when he'd lost his virginity the first time round, with Quinn. He kept referring to the night with Kurt as that in his head, as _the second time, _but he knew it was ridiculous. You couldn't lose your virginity twice. That was sort of the point.

However, it hadn't been like this with Quinn. He remembered looking in the mirror, afterwards, searching his face for any inclination of change. There hadn't been anything.

It was different now. He felt as if something inside him had snapped open and as if he'd had some kind of revelation, like he had discovered something about himself that he hadn't known before.

He turned away from the mirror, his reflection making him feel sick and walked back into his bedroom. He felt like crap. Every part of his body still hurt and he had a large bruise on his upper back from where he'd been shoved into the locker, but mostly, his heart hurt. He felt drained, too tired for anything, as if he could feel a physical ache in his chest.

**BEEP BEEP.**

Blaine groaned and collapsed on his bed, grabbing his vibrating phone from the side table.

**1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: KURT.**

Blaine stared at his phone for a few seconds, eyes wide, unsure of what to think, then he pressed the button in the centre and the screen showed the message.

_Hi. I'm sorry that I said all that yesterday, even if it was all true. I sort of know what you're going through and I know it's not easy. I didn't mean to make it worse, I just got caught up in the heat of the moment and it all just came out. I'm not taking it back, I'm just saying I'm sorry that it made you feel worse about everything. You'll get through it, eventually. See you at school, I guess. -K._

Blaine read it once, then twice and then again and again and again and soon, he could recite it without having to look.

_It's okay. Thanks. See you. -B._

He couldn't say what he wanted to say, that he was sorry, too, that he had made a mistake, that he was going to keep making mistakes for the rest of his life, because things were quickly plummeting downhill and he was afraid and he needed Kurt there to help him, to hold him, even. He couldn't say that, because he needed to break away from Kurt, needed to let him go.

He was afraid that if he went back to being on good terms with Kurt that he would say something he would regret later.

He lay back on his bed and shut his eyes, his head throbbing. The game was on in less than a week and so was sectionals and he couldn't think about one without being reminded of the other and it was tearing away at his soul.

Now he felt really sick.

* * *

><p>"Maybe one of the band guys could fill in?" Sam suggested from his seat in the back row. Everyone looked over at the band guys, who looked alarmed. "Or not," Sam said, slowly.<p>

"We could pay someone?" Finn suggested, causing the others to sigh.

"Let's not get too upset," Mr Schue said, but he was frowning, too. "Maybe we can talk to Blaine. Is anyone friends with him?"

Kurt stayed silent. Blaine wasn't his friend.

"Kurt, aren't you guys partners for English class?" Rachel asked, swinging around to face Kurt. She flicked her long, straight brown hair over her shoulder and looked at him questioningly.

"Yeah," Kurt said. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Maybe you should talk to him," Mercedes said, chewing gently on her bottom lip.

"I don't talk to Blaine Anderson," Kurt shook his head, adamantly. Every time he had to deny that he and Blaine had even spoken, images of a naked Blaine in his bed filled his mind.

"You could talk to him just this once," Artie said. "Maybe he'll listen to you."

"_Please,_" Santana snorted in the front row. "Anderson thinks he's better than everyone else. He listens to nobody. Except maybe his daddy, I heard he gives him a few smacks every now and then."

"Stop it, Santana," Kurt said, eyes straight ahead. Yes, Blaine was hard to get through to sometimes and he probably wouldn't listen to anyone, but Kurt knew his home life was a mess and his father was abusive and no matter the situation between them, he wasn't about to allow anyone to make a mockery of that part of Blaine's life. "That's slander."

"Okay!" Mr Schuester said, voice high. "Enough. This isn't solving anything!"

"Maybe he'll come to his senses," Rory said, in his thick Northern Irish accent.

Kurt could feel the negativity in the room. Everyone knew that there was no chance of that.

"As if Blaine Anderson would abandon a football game to sing on stage," Tina said, sadly.

"Kurt, you don't think you could talk to Blaine?" Mr Schue asked.

Kurt sighed. He could try, he guessed, but in a way, Blaine had sort of dumped him. They weren't ever official or anything, but the way he had ended it made Kurt feel as if he had been dumped. He couldn't talk to Blaine. He had principles, morals, self-respect.

"No," Kurt said, adamantly. "I don't think I could."

* * *

><p>"Big game tomorrow, eh, son?"<p>

Blaine looked up at his dad, studying him carefully. It was strange. He could go from being a raving lunatic, to an interested father in the blink of an eye. _That's dangerous, _Blaine thought.

"Uh, yeah."

"I heard scouts from all the major colleges will be there," he continued. "This is your chance to shine."

"Um, right," Blaine said, the urge to vomit suddenly very strong.

"I can't make it, unfortunately, but I know you'll do well, Blaine," his dad said, stressing the word 'know'.

Blaine couldn't help thinking it sounded a lot like a threat.

* * *

><p>"40 minutes 'til the bus gets here, guys," Mr Schue said waving his hands to quieten the glee club. "Make sure you've got everything!"<p>

The choir room was buzzing with excitement and fear and anxiety. In about an hour, they would be at sectionals in the green room, waiting to go on stage and perform, albeit a member down, but still, the cellist didn't look that bad. At least not any more. He hadn't thrown up in at least ten minutes, so that was progress.

Kurt sat on a chair, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. He knew Blaine wasn't coming, yet still, part of him hoped..

"You okay, Kurt?" Mercedes asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah," Kurt said, smiling for effect. "Yeah, fine. A little nervous."

"You'll be fine once you're on stage," Mercedes assured him. "Hey, what's that?"

She was looking down at the silver bracelet, his fingers twisting around it.

"Birthday gift," Kurt said, hoping she wouldn't ask any more. But she did.

"From who?"

"Um," Kurt said, feeling flustered. Why hadn't he planned this already? "My dad."

"It's nice," Mercedes smiled and stood up straight. "Well, I gotta go make sure I've got everything. See you in a few."

He waved her off and she fell into the hubbub occurring all around the room. Kurt sat there, in silence, his fingers still caressing the cool metal around his wrist, tracing the etched words.

_"I want to take you far from the cynics in this town and kiss you on the mouth."_

He thought about the guy who had given him this bracelet, the guy who had whispered those words softly against his lips, the guy who had placed small kisses all along his neck and held him in his sleep and smiled at him bewitchingly.

Maybe he would come around.

Kurt frowned as he remembered the guy with the cup full of slushie, the one who shoved kids inside lockers, the one that was far too afraid to let anyone see that he had another side, the one who would rather die than let anyone see the real him.

The cold, hard facts hit him then like a slushie in the face.

Blaine wasn't coming.

* * *

><p>"Surprised to see you here, Anderson."<p>

"Close your mouth and walk away, Karofsky. I am not in the mood."

"Why? Hummel blow you off?" Karofsky grinned, wildly. "Or maybe you blew him off, if you know what I mean."

Blaine slammed his hand against the lockers in the boy's changing rooms and then instantly regretted it, because it hurt like hell.

"I said walk away, Karofsky," Blaine said, with a sort of contrived patience. He did not need a fight today. He already felt drained and yes, he sort of wanted to punch someone, but really, he didn't have the strength or the motivation. He just wanted to get this game over with, so that he could go home and sleep.

Karofsky laughed manically as he walked away and Blaine continued to get changed.

The room smelled like soap and dust and dirty socks. The loud hum of the football team talking and laughing filled the air and Blaine felt sick to his stomach. He should have been with the glee club, should have been getting on a bus and going to sectionals to sing with them. He should have been with Kurt.

Blaine shoved his bag inside his locker and sat down on the small wooden bench. he buried his head in his hands and sighed, his ribs aching inexplicably. This was horrible. He felt as if a cold sweat was running down the back of his neck, his stomach filled once again with that awful hollow feeling and his head felt as if it was spinning like a merry go round. But there was nothing merry about how he was feeling today,

He wondered what it would be like if the world allowed everyone to make their own choices. It didn't matter, he guessed. He would always choose football.

Always.

* * *

><p><em>This is your chance to shine.<em>

The words rang like a shrill alarm in his ears, his mind clouded and unsure. He looked around at his team mates stretching at the side of the playing field next to him, at coach Beiste on the bench studying her tactics sheet, at the people in the stands cheering. He looked across at Quinn in her Cheerios uniform, smiling brightly and waving her pom-pons. He looked to his side and saw Karofsky warming up, running on the spot, his face twisted angrily. He saw Puck laughing with Azimio, as they shook their ankles, loosening up. He looked down at his own hands, shaking. His knees felt week and his stomach was turning and he wasn't fit to lead a team to victory. He wasn't fit for anything.

He looked to the crowd again and he could easily pick out the college scouts. They tried to lay low, look inconspicuous, but how many spectators went to a game with a notepad and pen? He saw numerous familiar faces and some not so familiar ones. He saw teachers and local neighbours and the janitor and the cleaning ladies. He saw families, moms and dads and sons and daughters and babies and toddlers and old men and women. He saw smiling faces, frowning ones, people laughing, talking, shouting, cheering, waving flags and foam fingers and signs.

But behind all those different exteriors, behind the smiles and the frowns and the laughter and the cheering, he saw what was really there.

He saw a town full of cynics.

* * *

><p>The clock was ticking. Kurt could hear it over the sounds of the laughter and the excitement. It was twenty minutes until the bus arrived. He felt that in choosing football over sectionals, Blaine was choosing everything else over him.<p>

It was ridiculous and Kurt knew the reality of how things were going to go, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt.

* * *

><p><em>"Anderson!"<em>

_"Anderson, get back here!"_

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Someone do something!"_

_"Blaine! It's five minutes until kick-off!"_

_"Is he out of his mind?"_

Blaine ignored everyone calling after him as he dropped his helmet to the ground and ran towards the school, leaving everyone gaping after him. He wasn't sure what had made him do it. Maybe the fact that he felt like something was screaming inside his mind, maybe the stern faces of the shouts in the stands, maybe the way Quinn was smiling at him from behind the ruffles of her pom-pons. Regardless, he had made his mind up and there was no turning back now. He wasn't sure what this would mean for him and his position on the team and for him and his status at school, but he had done it now and he couldn't change that. Frankly, he didn't even want to.

He pushed the choir room door open and was met by several surprised stares. He was panting and coughing a little from all the running. He looked around the room, searching out those crystal blue, shining eyes, but he couldn't find them. He took a few breaths and endeavoured to compose himself before speaking.

"Am I too late?" he asked, still a little breathless.

"Y-you're coming?" Rachel asked, stepping forward, looking stunned.

"Yeah," he shrugged and one of the band guys fell down into his seat sighing in relief. He must have been his replacement. He fought the urge to ask where Kurt was, because he was still uncomfortable about people thinking they were close. Maybe he had messed up his life, but there was still a chance he could redeem himself with the footballers. Maybe—

"Well," Rachel said, folding her arms. "Your hair is a mess."

She was right. His hair was stuck to his face, sweating and gelled and matted from the football helmet.

"Where's Hummel?" he asked, finally.

"Why..?" Mercedes asked, sceptically.

"Well, you said my hair's a mess," Blaine provided. "Who else do you know that can fix it?"

"He has a point, Mercedes," Rachel said, still staring at Blaine with a daggered glare.

"He went to his locker to get something," Mercedes told him, with a shrug.

He gave her a small nod, before disappearing into the hallway again.

"Be quick, bus leaves in 15 minutes!" someone shouted after him.

He walked quickly around the corner and rushed through the halls, heart beating manically in his chest. He wasn't sure what the plan was, just that he needed to see him alone before they left in the crowded bus.

He saw him, then, rooting in his locker, moving with that regal grace that Blaine liked to watch so much. He stood there, looking at him for a few moments, head tilted sideways and just.. _staring. _He realised then that he was smiling. Kurt always looked so angelic and innocent. Of course, Blaine knew otherwise, but Kurt was still the brightest, most unflawed thing in this entire school, this entire town, maybe in the entire world. Looking at Kurt made him feel calm, somehow. He wished he could just look at him all the time.

_Time._

He was running out of time. He did the only thing then that he could think to do.

He ran forward, twisted Kurt around and kissed him like it was his dying day. And in a way, in some crazy, messed up way inside Blaine's head, it was.

* * *

><p>Kurt was taken aback at the sudden contact and the unexpected set of lips coming down over his own. He didn't stop and think for a long time, because Blaine's mouth was on his and he was murmuring against his lips and his fingers were gently cupping the side of his face.<p>

Finally, he pulled away and Blaine looked hurt and lost and scared and all of these things that Kurt wanted to make go away.

"Wh—you—Blaine," Kurt said, shaking his head. "You're supposed to be at the game, you—"

"I know," Blaine said, softly. "I know and I don't know what's going to happen, or if my life is over, or anything, but I'm here and I can't go back, not now."

Kurt smiled a bit and chuckled.

"Your life is not over, Blaine," he told him.

Blaine smiled back, too, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. He looked sad, vulnerable and very unlike himself.

"We're going to miss sectionals," Kurt told him.

"They said you would fix my hair," was his reply.

Kurt looked up at Blaine's matted, greasy-looking hair and grimaced.

"Good God," he breathed. "Did you roll around in puddles?"

"No," Blaine informed him. "I had a helmet on, but I took it off. I feel free."

Kurt laughed then and elbowed Blaine. "You _sound_ drunk."

"I _feel_ drunk," Blaine said, smile growing. "I bet everyone thought I was drunk when I ran off the field with no explanation."

"I would have given my right arm to see that."

"I like your right arm," Blaine teased. "And your left one, too."

Kurt studied him, closely, looked right into those golden brown eyes, but he saw no signs of alcohol.

"Um," he said, shaking his head again. "Wow. I can see the gel whitening and forming clumps."

Kurt reached up to push the gel away and Blaine caught his hand and looked down at it, then back up into Kurt's eyes.

"You didn't take it off," Blaine exhaled, his hazel eyes locked on Kurt's ocean blues.

Kurt realised he meant the bracelet. Blaine's fingers were still entwined around his wrist, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the underside of his wrist, his touch sending shivers all through Kurt as his thumb traced over his veins.

"Nope," Kurt said, simply.

"How come?" Blaine asked. "I figured you hated me."

"I don't hate you, Blaine."

It was quite the opposite, actually. Kurt liked Blaine. He was better than he had been when they had first met. He wasn't completely out of the woods, but he was still improving. And Kurt thought that even if he hadn't improved he still wouldn't hate him, because Blaine had this whole other side and sometimes, that outshone the other Blaine, the one that treated others like garbage, the one who did all these awful things.

Kurt knew that wasn't the real Blaine Anderson.

"You should hate me," Blaine muttered, under his breath.

"And I didn't take it off, because I wanted a reminder of this guy," Kurt told him. "The one that does the right thing. And I kind of wanted you to see it and remember him, too. I wanted you to see it on my wrist during class and I wanted you to remember that you were capable of doing good things, that you can do things just because you feel like it. Like when you gave me this," Kurt said, raising his wrist a little. "And I wanted you to see it and know that I still had faith in you, that I still believed you could do the right thing, that you could be yourself and do what you wanted to do.

"Because, Blaine, I think this is the right thing for you," Kurt went on. "I think that singing is your thing. I've never seen you play football, but I know you're happy when you sing. I've seen you happy, for real, Blaine and when you're with them, the footballers? You're not happy. Maybe part of this was about me and you, and me wanting you to choose me, whatever that would mean, but it was about you, too. It was about you being truthful and honest with yourself. I wanted you to do this for you, because it made you happy. I wanted you to choose what made you happy, choose to do this just because it felt good."

"I did," Blaine said. "But you come into it, too."

"Do I?"

"Don't make me say it, Kurt. You know you do," Blaine looked pained. "I can't—I can't say what that means, because I don't really know, but..."

Blaine trailed off, unable to find the right words. They were silent for a minute, then Kurt cleared his throat.

"We're going to be late," Kurt apprised him. "We can fix your hair on the bus."

Kurt closed his locker and began walking back in the direction of the choir room, but Blaine tugged him back, his fingers still locked on Kurt's wrist.

"Wait," Blaine said, once Kurt had turned to look at him.

"Wha—"

Blaine's mouth came down slowly over Kurt's and he kissed him very, very slowly, but still ardently. Kurt kissed him back, because he couldn't not kiss him back. Blaine had done this and had admitted to Kurt that he had affected his decision, in some way.

They pulled away, reluctantly, small, shy smiles on their lips and then walked down the hall towards the choir room.

Neither of them saw Karofsky, who had come looking for the star quarter back, standing at the corner watching them.

* * *

><p>Blaine stood on the stage as the heavy velvet curtains raised upwards. The crowd was like a never-ending sea of people and his heart was hammering in his chest. He had never done anything like this before. The music started to play and Blaine took a deep breath as Rachel sang leading vocals. He opened his mouth, then, to sing background with the others.<p>

_This was his time to shine._

* * *

><p><strong>I actually haven't got anything to say for once haha. Let me know what you think! :)<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**I own nothing. I'm sorry that took so long. It's 6.45am and I literally just finished it. If there are spelling mistakes or whatever, I'm sorry, I'll fix them tomorrow, I just wanted to get this posted because I left you almost two days with no update and I feel awful about it. Okay. Phew!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14:<strong>

Kurt glanced down the bus, to the back row and looked at Blaine sitting there staring vacantly out the window. Everyone else was celebrating after having won at sectionals. People were singing and laughing and drinking that awful sparkling cider that Mr Schue had bought. Blaine was sitting at the back by himself.

"Kurt, where are you going?" Mercedes asked when Kurt began to climb out of his seat.

"I thought I'd see if Blaine wanted to join us," he shrugged.

"_Why?_"

"Um, because he's part of this club and he's all by himself?" Kurt offered.

"So, leave him be," Mercedes waved a hand. "No one cares about Blaine Anderson anyway."

_I do,_ Kurt thought.

"We can't just leave him there, Mercedes," Kurt shook his head. "He looks so lonely. Besides," Kurt said. "He's not so bad."

Mercedes assumed an incredulous expression, her dark eyes wide, lips parted.

"Not so ba—wait!" Mercedes' shocked expression developed into one of amusement and she grinned knowingly. "You _like _him, don't you?"

Kurt's eyes flashed for a split second, then he feigned surprise and acted as if it was the most ludicrous thing he had ever heard in his entire life.

"What?" he said, voice raised. "No! That's—Mercedes. That's completely ridiculous. I do not like Blaine Anderson!"

"Yes, you do!" Mercedes looked at Kurt in delight and she clapped her hands together. "Kurt has a cru-ush!" Mercedes said in a sing-song voice.

"That sparkling cider is going to your head," Kurt said, with a roll of his eyes, before sitting back and shaking his head.

Kurt's insides were still singing, after what had happened with Blaine by his locker. He knew that the happiness wouldn't last long, however, because Blaine's social status was going to be tainted and his dad was going to cause a scene and he was going to get down about it and probably mad and who knew what that would make him do? But for now, he was just happy. They had won sectionals, Blaine had done something that made him happy and in a way, Kurt felt that he had picked him over.. well, _something,_ anyway.

He knew that it wasn't anything exclusive and that it was going to go back to Blaine stealing kisses from him while Quinn wasn't around and maybe to them doing sexual things and then Blaine freaking out and apologising.

Maybe that made him desperate. Maybe it made him a sucker. He didn't care. At least not right now. He would eventually. He would need to talk to Blaine, tell him they couldn't keep doing it like this, that he had principles, but for now he would just go with it. He would help Blaine get through this, because he knew exactly what it was like to try to deal with everything Blaine was going through and was bound to go through soon enough. He knew what it was like to be a social pariah. He knew what it was like to struggle with your sexuality. He knew what it was like to be afraid. So, for now, he would just be there for him.

* * *

><p>"Hi."<p>

Blaine looked around from the window and saw Kurt walking towards him, wobbling a little as the bus jerked. He sat down beside Blaine and looked at him.

"Hey," Blaine replied, eyes going to Kurt's wrist, because he liked to know he was still wearing the bracelet.

"Why are you sitting here by yourself?"

Blaine gave him a look that said 'you have to ask?' and Kurt frowned.

"Come on," he said, tugging lightly on the sleeve of Blaine's jacket. "Come sit with us. They'll be fine. You're part of this team, Blaine."

Blaine exhaled and turned his gaze back to the happenings outside the window. He had been part of another team, too, just hours ago. Now it seemed like everything was gone, like everything was falling apart.

"Look," Kurt said, sitting back next to Blaine. "I know you're worried about what's going to happen with everything, but it'll get better, regardless of what happens."

"I doubt that," Blaine mumbled, still looking out the window. Nothing was happening out there.

"That's because you're so negative all the time," Kurt told him. "Seriously, though. Things are never as bad as we think they are, Blaine. Trust me, there were times when I thought it was the end of the world. Like when my dad was in hospital. I thought that was it and I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost him. It wasn't like my life was all sunshine and rainbows as it was, but it got better. Things always do, eventually."

Blaine felt like an ass not for the first time in Kurt's presence. When Kurt told him about his dad and the things he had been through, it made him feel as if he had minor problems in comparison. He told Kurt as much.

"No problem is a minor problem, Blaine," Kurt responded. "If something is bothering you and it's affecting you in your every day life, then it's a problem, simple as that. Just because someone has a bigger problem than you doesn't mean yours isn't important. If something is bothering you and you're worried, then it's worth talking about, you know?"

Blaine nodded, thinking he understood.

"Besides," Kurt said and Blaine thought his voice sounded a little uneven as he spoke. "I'll help you out in whatever way I can. I—well, what I mean to say is that you don't have on get through it on your own."

"Thanks, but, um," Blaine glanced towards the front of the bus. "Can we talk about this later?"

"Sure," Kurt nodded.

Blaine nodded back, gratefully. He didn't want to talk about it right now. He needed to be alone with Kurt when they talked about his personal problems. The bus was far too crowded for his liking.

"So, are you going to come sit with us?" Kurt asked, smiling and Blaine frowned again, because when Kurt smiled, it made him want to do things. It made him want to say yes to whatever he wanted him to do.

"I don't think so," he said, anyway.

"Oh, come on!" Kurt said. "We've got sparkling cider!"

"Oh, wow," Blaine joked. "You guys are hardcore."

Kurt elbowed him playfully and Blaine smiled harder. He liked when they had little moments like this. It made him feel as if all was not lost.

"But, really, go back up there," Blaine said. "Mercedes keeps glancing down to make sure I haven't magically pulled a slushie from my back pocket and emptied it over your perfect hair-do."

It was true. She glanced back every few seconds, sipping from her little, plastic cup, her head tilted and her eyes narrowed. Blaine had the urge to wave, or flick her off, but he didn't think it would do him any favours.

"She thinks I've got a crush on you," Kurt said, looking down the bus in Mercedes' direction.

"Oh, she does, does she?" Blaine smirked. "And what'd you tell her?"

"I told her the cider was going to her head," Kurt grinned.

"Yeah, all that fizz can make you crazy," Blaine teased.

"Totally," Kurt chuckled. "Come on, come sit with us, Blaine. It'll be fun."

Blaine glanced up the bus at Sam Evans singing the theme song to Pokémon. Brittany had straws up her nostrils. Finn Hudson was trying to balance a straw on his nose. Blaine looked away, shaking his head.

"Yeah, it looks like great fun," he said, not without sarcasm and Kurt elbowed him again.

"Please?"

"No, Kurt."

"Come on," Kurt pleaded. "I want you to. Do it for me."

Blaine looked at him, then, because if Kurt really did want him to, he would probably do it. He liked the idea of being wanted just for himself. Other people wanted him for his status, like Quinn, for example. With Kurt, it wasn't like that.

"Fine," Blaine sighed and Kurt clapped his hands together as if to say 'oh, goody!' and Blaine rolled his eyes, affectionately. "On one condition, though."

Kurt's smile faded and his eyes narrowed, studying Blaine.

"What?"

"You come chill with me in the field later," Blaine stated. "I don't want to go home tonight and I don't really want to be on my own."

He hated admitting that last part, but with Kurt, it wasn't so bad. He didn't think Kurt would judge him, or at least not for those reasons.

"Deal," Kurt said, almost instantly. "Now, come on. Put on that winning smile and channel the Blaine Anderson that I know and love."

Kurt got up and walked back towards the front of the bus, obviously expecting Blaine to follow him, but Blaine stayed still in his seat for a couple of heart beats, his eyes wide and mouth hanging, because Kurt had indirectly said that he loved him.

* * *

><p>"Did we just—we just had sex in a field," Kurt said, incredulously. "Oh my God. <em>We just had sex in a field<em>."

"Usually, I'm the one freaking out," Blaine said, staring up at the sky. "This makes a change."

"I'm not freaking out for the same reasons you freaked out," Kurt said, feeling a little dazed. "Actually, I'm not even freaking out at all."

"Yeah, you are," Blaine said, rolling over onto his stomach and pushing himself up on his elbows. He smiled down at Kurt who was staring at the sky with wide eyes.

They were on top of that blanket Blaine had taken with him last time and this time, he'd brought a second blanket, too, so that was over them. Kurt had no idea how it had happened. They had been lying there, watching the stars, like they had done before. Then suddenly they were kissing and then clothes began to fall and Kurt didn't even think to object to doing it in the middle of a God damned field, because Blaine looked far too gorgeous in the light of the moon and if he had said he didn't want him, he would have been lying through his teeth.

"I am not."

"Prove it," Blaine whispered and then he was moving across to hover over Kurt, who simply stared up at him, stunned.

"What are yo—"

Blaine was kissing him again and Kurt thought to push him off so that they could talk and he could complain some more about being naked in a field and having had sex with Blaine without any protection, but then Blaine was deepening the kiss and his fingers were stroking his arm, rubbing tiny circles back and forth, his touch sending small shivers along Kurt's skin, and he gave in with a sigh and kissed Blaine back.

When they pulled apart, Blaine grinned down at Kurt, his eyes a dark gold in the star light.

"You're right, you're not freaking out," he said, then rolled back next to Kurt, their arms touching. Blaine sighed. "I just don't want tonight to end."

Kurt could have taken the romantic analysis of that, which would have been 'I-don't-want-tonight-to-end-because-I-want-to-spend-every-minute-by-your-side-and-that-can't-happen-when-we're-in-public', but he was pretty sure that wasn't what Blaine meant. He was pretty sure that it meant 'I-don't-want-this-night-to-end-because-tomorrow-may-very-well-mean-I-will-be-cast-out-and-friendless-and-girlfriendless-and-have-to-deal-with-my-angry-father'.

Kurt sighed. "Well, no matter what happens, you've still got us, the glee club," Kurt told him, then tilted his head sideways to look at Blaine. "And.. you've still got me."

Blaine turned his head slowly to look at Kurt.

"For how long, though?"

"What?"

"How long do I still have you?"

Kurt knew what he meant. Kurt wasn't going to stick around as the.. the _paramour_ forever.

"I'll always be someone you can come to," Kurt assured him. "No matter the situation."

Blaine nodded, then sighed again.

"If things were different, you know I..." Blaine trailed off, leaving Kurt watching him expectantly. It was clear he wasn't going to finish that sentence.

"You still don't think you're gay, do you?"

Blaine went still, Kurt felt him stiffening next to him. He said nothing, which Kurt thought was an improvement from instant denial.

"Blaine, we just had sex in a field," Kurt said, again, both as a reminder of how crazy that was and as a means of reminding Blaine that straight guys didn't really go around having sex in fields with other guys.

"I know," Blaine said, quietly. "How badly do you hurt right now?"

Kurt laughed a bit then, because he hurt a lot. Blaine had insisted on topping and they obviously hadn't planned on it happening, so they didn't have condoms, or lube, or anything that would make the intrusion easier (besides saliva, but that made Kurt shiver all over every time he thought about it). So, yes, Kurt was feeling very sensitive and uncomfortable and he didn't want to move. Ever.

"I might have to stay in this position forever," was Kurt's reply and Blaine said, his body shaking with laughter next to Kurt's.

"So, all these times when I need to come to you with all these problems, I'll have to come find you here?"

Kurt elbowed Blaine. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

"Very funny, Anderson," Kurt joked.

"It'll be just like in 'Pocahontas'," Blaine went on, smiling brightly, a lick of moonlight across his face. "Like when she goes to her grandma for advice. But her grandma is a tree."

Kurt spluttered and tried to sit up, but ended up falling back, groaning, because everything ached.

"Slow down there, Grandmother Willow," Blaine said, laughing. Kurt liked when he laughed, even if he was laughing at him. "Move too fast and you'll hurt yourself even more."

"And whose fault is that?" Kurt smirked.

"Mine," Blaine grinned. "But not once did I hear you refusing it."

As if he ever would.

"Two years," Kurt breathed, half-laughing. "How on earth did Quinn manage to put up with you for two whole years?"

Blaine elbowed Kurt this time and said, "Well, I'm not like this with Quinn, obviously. Speaking is difficult with Quinn. She doesn't listen most of the time. And she can be scary. So, she gets quiet, reserved, cool, 'doesn't-speak-unless-spoken-to' Blaine."

Kurt thought Quinn must have been crazy. She had him and she treated him the way she did. To be fair, Blaine didn't exactly treat her like a queen, but she could at least pretend to give a damn about him. Blaine seemed to pretend he cared about her, at least in public.

"For the record," Kurt began, smiling sideways at Blaine. "I think this Blaine is way cooler than the other Blaine."

"That's nice of you to say," Blaine chuckled, but his heart wasn't in it. "No one else does."

"How do you know if you've never shown this side to anyone?" Kurt enquired and Blaine shook his head immediately.

"I know what they're like."

"You know what, Blaine?" Kurt smiled, sadly. "None of that, the popularity and all that crap, none of that is going to matter a few years down the line. The way I see it, you may as well be yourself from the very start, because if you get too caught up in the pretence, you won't know how to be any other way and then eventually, your whole life will be a lie, you know?"

"I know," Blaine said, very quietly.

"I don't think you do know," Kurt sighed, sadly. If Blaine truly believed that, he would do something about it, but maybe at some point he would understand. Kurt hoped so anyway. Blaine looked uncomfortable and stayed quiet for a long time, so Kurt changed the subject. "I can't believe we're naked in a field. It's filthy here and I haven't moisturised or—"

"I'm sure you'll survive one night, Kurt," Blaine chuckled. "Now stop complaining, hold my hand and watch the stars, because this might just be the final night of happiness I have for the rest of my entire life."

Blaine slipped his hand into Kurt's and gave it a gentle squeeze, as if he just wanted someone to give him a little reassurance. Kurt could do that.

"You'll smile again, Blaine," Kurt told him, turning his head to look Blaine right in those honey-coloured eyes.

"No, I won't," Blaine said and Kurt could see the pain in his eyes. He wasn't sure if there were boundaries now that they'd been so intimate and he wanted to just move across and hold him. He didn't.

"Yes, you will," Kurt said, firmly. "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

><p>Blaine walked through the hallways, his head bowed, wishing he didn't have to do this. He and Kurt had parted ways around the corner and even if Kurt had reassured him again and again, he just didn't feel as if everything would go as he hoped.<p>

He turned into the hall where the lockers stood and instantly felt all eyes on him. He raised his head up and tried to look proud, because he was Blaine Anderson and he was better than all of them. Even if he didn't really believe that, he hoped that was the vibe he was giving off.

"Blaine!"

Blaine took a deep breath and turned around to see Quinn running towards him. He was screwed.

"You asshole!"

Blaine rolled his eyes. He was tired. He didn't want to deal with this. Sometimes, when Quinn behaved like this he wanted to shout that he was cheating on her, just to see the hurt in her eyes, but he always thought the better of it.

"I called you, like, two hundred times!" Quinn declared for all to hear once she had reached him. "I cannot believe you would do that, Blaine! Do you know what people are saying?"

"No," Blaine said, tiredly. "But I can imagine."

"No," Quinn said, angrily. "You cannot imagine. They're saying you're turning into a nerd!"

Blaine started walking away from her, but she followed, much to his chagrin.

"There are worse things to be accused of being than an nerd, Quinn," Blaine apprised her.

"Yeah, that's true, Blaine, because do you know what other rumour is going around? And, God, I _hope _a rumour is all it is. In fact, _I'm sure _it's just a rumour, because my boyfriend wouldn't do a thing like _go gay _on me!" Quinn shouted. Blaine's heart stopped, but he continued on, playing dumb. "Karofsky is saying you're sleeping with some gay kid."

"And you're paying attention to what Karofsky says because...?"

"Because you're acting weird, lately, Blaine, you can't deny that," Quinn tugged him back by the arm and gestured for him to follow her inside an empty classroom. He followed because she would follow him anyway and he would rather do this in private than in a hall filled with intrusive students, not to mention teachers.

"So, tell me," Quinn said, once they were inside. "Why'd you do it?"

Blaine sighed and sat down on a table. He looked down at his feet.

"I like singing," he shrugged.

"Oh, God," Quinn said, raising her hands to her head in distress. "Then you are gay!"

"Jesus, Quinn," Blaine groaned. "Singing does not make you gay. I'm not gay."

He kept his gaze low, because he wasn't sure that was entirely true any more. Maybe it was time he addressed that soon. He would think about it.

"Then why?"

"Because they needed a twelfth member," Blaine told her. "Look, I like doing it and they needed me, so I went, okay? I don't know why you're making such a big deal out of it."

Quinn looked deranged now, her eyes wide, brows raised way up high and her lips parted.

"Um, maybe because _the entire world is talking about you_!" Quinn told him and Blaine rolled his eyes again. It reminded him of what Kurt had said, about none of this mattering in the real world, in the future, outside this town. Obviously the whole world was not talking about one kid ditching his football game for a show choir competition.

"They'll get over it," he shrugged, but he didn't really believe that.

"And what about Karofsky?" Quinn asked and Blaine wished she would just forget about that. "Where would he get a story like that?"

Blaine sighed. He took a few breaths, then looked up at his girlfriend. Her eyes were questioning him.

"Look, here's the deal. You know I got paired with some new kid for English, right? Mrs Flynn's class?" Quinn nodded. "So, turns out the kid—Kurt—is gay. He's in glee, too, so Karofsky, who suddenly hates me for whatever reason, fabricated this tale that I'm having sex with him—Hummel."

"Hummel?"

He gaped at her for a minute. Was she even listening to him?

"Yeah, Hummel. Kurt Hummel. That's the kid I got partnered with."

"And Karofsky just suddenly hates you?"

"Yes, I have no idea why, okay? Maybe it's because I joined glee, I don't know, but he attacked me the other day. You remember."

Quinn nodded slowly, clearly believing him. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to break his legs," Blaine said. He had no intentions of actually breaking Karofsky's legs, or any of his bones for that matter, but he was definitely going to confront him and have a little talk with him about the janitor's closet incident.

"Okay," Quinn said, looking calmer. "Well, I think if that's just a rumour, we'll be okay. The whole skipping the game, though, I don't know. It was a really dumb thing to do, Blaine."

"Why is everything I like dumb?"

"I never said that," Quinn pointed out. "But it doesn't do much for your reputation, now does it? But maybe it'll be okay! Maybe if you do get in a fight with Karofsky, it'll up your rep.! Black eyes are hot, Blaine, maybe let him hit you a couple of times. Then maybe people will start seeing you as my cool, popular boyfriend again!"

"Wait," Blaine said, furrowing his eyebrows. "You _want _me to get hurt, just so I don't make you look bad?"

"Admit it, baby, it would help," Quinn said, hands on her hips.

"Actually, Quinn, I don't think I want to continue this conversation," Blaine said, standing up. "In fact, I don't think I want to continue this relationship, either."

Not that Blaine would have defined what he and Quinn had as a relationship.

"Blaine—"

"We both know why we were even together in the first place, so there's no—"

"If you break up with me, do you know what people are going to say?" Quinn said. "They'll think those rumours are true, Blaine. They'll put two and two together and they'll come up with you being a fag. On top of that, I don't think you can afford to leave me. You're on thin ice, Blaine. Me being your girlfriend is going to help put you back on top. How about you think about that before deciding you don't want to 'continue this relationship'?"

She was right. Blaine sank back down onto the table and took a long inhale of breath. Everything she had said, for once in her perfect little life, was spot on.

"Fine," he said, finally. "Okay. You got what you wanted, now can I get my books?"

Quinn smiled, satisfied and leaned up to place a tiny kiss on his cheek.

"Good," she said, once she'd taken a step back. "I'll see you in class, okay, babe? This whole mess will be over and done with very soon, you'll see!"

And with that, she turned around and left the room, swinging her hips. Blaine stayed there another minute. He closed his eyes and thought about how much worse that could have gone. In a way, he was disappointed that Quinn hadn't broken things off. Of course, he had had the opportunity, but he had to save his reputation. It was all he really had. Well, he had Kurt, too, but he was sure he would get sick of the whole arrangement sooner or later. In the long run, this was for the best.

**BEEP BEEP.**

Blaine reached into his pocket and pulled out his vibrating phone.

**1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: KURT.**

_Karofsky knows._

* * *

><p>"Well, look who we have here."<p>

Kurt recognised the voice behind him immediately. He turned around, just as Karofsky's large hands came down on his shoulders. He tried to push him off, but he was far too strong. He pushed Kurt inside an empty classroom and shut the door behind them.

Kurt's heart was hammering in his chest. He wasn't sure what Karofsky was capable of and he really didn't want to find out.

"Karofsky, what do you want?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too afraid.

"I saw you, you know," Karofsky snarled. He looked mad, really mad. "Yesterday."

"You saw me yesterday?" Kurt asked, confused. "Well, that's probably because I was at school. Good eye."

Kurt cursed his big mouth. The last thing he needed to do was provoke him.

"No," Karofsky said, moving closer. Kurt took a step backwards. "I mean, _I saw you. _You and Anderson swapping spit at the lockers."

Kurt went still. His initial thought was that Blaine was busted and he felt awful. He knew it wasn't really his fault, but he couldn't help but feel bad.

"Karofsky, Blaine Anderson is dating Quinn Fabray," Kurt said, because it didn't hurt to try. "He's not gay. I don't know what you think you saw, but—"

"Cut the crap, Hummel, I know what I saw and what I heard," Karofsky told him.

"It—It was a mistake!" Kurt said, quickly. "I kissed him. He wasn't expecting it, it just sort of happened. He told me he wasn't into guys and we left it at that. Seriously."

"You expect me to believe that crap?" Karofsky said, laughing cruelly. "I was there from the second Anderson said he liked your fucking, little girl arms."

Oh, well that was different, then. They were officially busted.

"So, what are you going to do, Karofsky?" Kurt said, gaining the nerve from nowhere. "You and I both know what you did to me in that closet and while I'm not about to out you to the entire population of McKinley High, I can't promise you that Blaine won't. So what are you going to do?"

Karofsky looked a little taken aback.

"Why him?"

"What?" Kurt asked, wrinkling his nose.

"You heard me," karofsky said, quietly, eyes on the ground. "Why him?"

Kurt was silent for a moment. He had no idea what he was talking about.

"Why who?"

"_Why Blaine Anderson?_" Karofsky said, voice raising. "_Why not me?_"

Kurt froze. Things had suddenly gotten very, very awkward. He could almost feel the ice in the room. He said nothing, but Karofsky went on, his face twisted angrily.

"I don't get it," he said. "He did the same things to you that I did, yet when I kissed you, you screamed like I had a knife to your throat. But when he kissed you—when _Anderson _kissed you—you kissed him back. You put your fucking, little girl arms around him and _you kissed him back_!"

"Blaine isn't anything like you."

Karofsky's head shot up and a million emotions passed over his face: Anger, fear, surprise, pain, more anger. Kurt felt sorry for him, then remembered he was actually a full on asshole, way worse than Blaine. He'd done things to him that Blaine never had, he'd said things, too. Karofsky was obviously having sexuality problems and yes, Kurt knew what that was like, but there were better ways to deal with them than beating kids silly.

"Blaine doesn't do the things he does because he wants to. He does them because he thinks he has to. I've seen the pleasure you get from hurting others, Karofsky. I've seen your face. He's not like that," Kurt said, firmly.

"You barely even know him—"

"Actually, I could probably safely say I know him better than any of you guys, who are supposed to be his 'friends'," Kurt said, forming air quotes with his fingers. "You've known him your entire life, I've known him for a little over three months. I'm pretty sure you have no idea who he really is."

"Screw him," Karofsky spat. "Oh, wait, you already have."

Kurt said nothing. Karofsky looked shocked, then, like he hadn't really believed his own words until Kurt had stood there and not denied it.

"_You screwed him?_"

"That," Kurt said, walking towards the door. "Is none of your business. Before you go around telling everyone about us, you should probably think. Blaine isn't going to sit back and let you say these things about him, regardless of whether they're true or not and I won't be able to stop him. If you do it and he tells everyone about what happened in the janitor's closet and then people ask me if it's true, I'm not really going to be able to say no, am I?"

Karofsky stared at him open-mouthed.

"Exactly," Kurt smiled and walked out the door.

He walked quickly down the hall and turned the corner before pulling his phone out of his bag, hands shaking. He typed a quick text and sent it.

_Karofsky knows._

* * *

><p>"This is a Blainervention."<p>

"A _what_?" Blaine asked, looking at Puck and six other guys off the football team standing around him at his locker.

"A Blainervention," Puck repeated in a tone that said 'duh!'.

"Um, that doesn't make any sense—"

"Yes, it does," Azimio said, next to Puck. Blaine noted that Karofsky was not present. All the better.

"Okay," Blaine said, slowly.

"Quinn told us why you went to glee," Puck said and Blaine nodded. "She also told us you're not actually sleeping with Hummel."

Blaine nodded again. "I'm not."

"See, Karofsky gave us some good reasons to believe he was tellin' the truth," Puck went on and Blaine's heart beat sped up. He just wanted to run away and never come back. Maybe even take Kurt with him. "So, we're going to ask you to come clean. Are you gay?"

Blaine spluttered, hoping it was convincing.  
>"What?" he said, in surprise. "No! I'm with Quinn, how could I be gay?"<p>

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

He could almost feel the entire world laughing at him. No one else knew, obviously, but if they did..

"Okay," Puck said. "Well, just so people don't think we're push overs, we're going to ask you to nicely not sit with us at lunch until after winter break."

Blaine let his mouth hang open. They couldn't be serious.

"What, really?"

"Yeah," Puck shrugged. "It's good logic."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, Puckerman," Blaine shook his head. He felt sick and tired and he wanted to go home and sleep, but he knew it wasn't that simple. Going home meant facing his dad, which would not be pretty.

"Look, Anderson," Puck said, moving forward and pulling Blaine away from the others. "_Blaine._ You're my bro, right?"

Blaine nodded. He guessed so.

"Right and me and you, we're the number ones round this place. You screwed up and I'm all about forgiveness and all that. We won the game anyway, no harm, no foul, right? So, I can't afford to have my reputation ruined as well, now can I? So, if we just give you a bit of a time out, nothing can go wrong. After winter break, you just go back to being my same old bro, right? Everyone will have forgotten this little mishap and you end up back on top. Simple."

Blaine realised three things, then. One, Puck had the worst logic out of anyone he had ever met in his life. Two, Puck said the word 'right' far too many times and three, as dumb as Puck's logic seemed to be, he had a point. That was the way things worked around here and tomorrow was the last day before winter break. He could handle that.

He nodded. "Okay."

"Good," Puck grinned. "So, you just hang with those glee losers for the last couple of days and then in the new year, you're back where you belong. Everything'll work out fine."

Blaine hoped so, he really, really hoped so.

"Oh and for the record," Puck said. "I don't think you're gay, dude."

Blaine gave him a weak smile, before heading off in the other direction to his next class.

He hadn't thought he was gay either for a long time, but now, he just didn't know.

* * *

><p>"Kurt Hummel!" Rachel Berry said sliding into the seat next to him at lunch. Mercedes slid in the other side and they were both grinning like mad women.<p>

"Um, hi?" Kurt offered.

"Is it true? Is Blaine Anderson gay?" Rachel asked, excitedly.

"No, Rachel, he is not. He's dating Quinn Fabray, remember?"

"That tells us nothing," Mercedes shook her head.

"Look, Dave Karofsky made up a rumour, okay? Just because Blaine Anderson is in glee, he thinks he's gay and since I'm the only other out gay kid at this school and I'm in glee club, not to mention the fact that Mrs Flynn partnered us up for English, Karofsky decided he would pull me into his little game and say we're having some kind of illicit love affair."

Kurt gave himself a mental pat on the back. That was super convincing, even if he did say so himself.

"That's all?" Mercedes asked, looking disappointed.

"Yes, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but my life is not that exciting," Kurt told her, with a smile.

"That's a shame," Rachel said, opening her lunch box. It had a picture of a ballerina on it. "You guys would make the cutest couple."

Kurt smiled down at his lunch, hoping no one saw. Maybe they would. Maybe they did. Maybe he would never really find out.

* * *

><p>Blaine pushed the locker room door open and walked inside, looking for Karofsky. He knew he would be here. He was always the last one to leave right after gym class. Kurt had texted Blaine exactly what had happened and what had been said and Blaine felt sort of proud of Kurt for doing what he had. Now, he needed to lay down the rules with Karofsky.<p>

"Karofsky!" Blaine shouted as he walked through the lockers. "Where are you, you asshole?"

He heard the metallic sound of a locker door opening a little away from him, so he followed that. He saw him then, sitting on the bench tying his shoe laces. He was sweaty, his hair sticking to his forehead. He looked really flushed, too.

"Heard you're crushing on Kurt Hummel," Blaine smiled, leaing against one of the lockers.

"No, I'm not," was all Karofsky said. He didn't lift his head.

"That's not what I heard," Blaine told him. "The exact words I was told you said were 'why Blaine Anderson? Why not me?' That sounds like you're crushing on Kurt Hummel, Dave."

When Kurt had told him that, Blaine had gotten a feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn't realise what it was for a few minutes, but then it hit him. _He was jealous. _He knew it was hypocritical. He was doing these things with Kurt and he was still with Quinn and still sort of bullying Kurt, not as much as before, but he was still doing it, but the idea of anyone else having, or being with Kurt, touching him and kissing him and whispering in his ear, made him feel sick.

"I don't have a crush on Kurt Hummel, okay?" Karofsky exploded angrily. He shot up out of his seat and slammed his fist into a locker.

"Good," Blaine said. "Now what are we going to do about what you think you saw—"

"I don't _think _I saw anything, Anderson and Hummel all but admitted it, so shut the fuck up telling me I imagined it."

"You're awfully mad for someone who claims he isn't crushing on the guy," Blaine said, looking thoughtful. "You sure it doesn't bother you that I spent last night with him?"

Blaine had no idea where he was getting the guts to say these things out loud from. His heart was beating far too quickly against his rib cage and he felt dizzy and giddy and like he might pass out, but he wanted to hurt Karofsky. He knew Kurt would frown at him for saying these things later. He knew he would tell him that he needed to be more careful, to not provoke him, but Blaine just didn't care right now. Karofsky wasn't going to threaten him and get away with it and he most definitely was not going to have a crush on the guy he—

"Shut up, Anderson," Karofsky said, sounding a little breathless. "I'm not into Hummel!"

"Then it doesn't bother you that I took his virginity?"

_Stop, Blaine, _his mind screamed. _Stop, or you're going to be sorry._

Maybe he would be, but it was worth it, just to see Karofsky wincing like this.

"I see," Blaine smiled, sweetly. "I'm glad you're okay with this, David. Now, what do we do about this information you have? I have some information, too, remember?"

Karofsky mumbled something and Blaine moved forward.

"I didn't quite hear that."

"I said I won't say anything if you won't! God, Anderson! Can you just get the fuck out and let me finish getting changed?"

"Worried about me peeking while you've got your pants off?" Blaine asked, brightly. "No worries, Dave, you're not my type. I like my men with elegance and style. Like Kurt Hummel—oh! Oops! Sorry, I don't mean to rub it in. I'll just be on my way now."

Blaine gave him a wink, before heading outside. He stood by the door and leaned against the wall, the cool brick soothing. His heart was racing and his mind was twirling, but he smiled, because that had been sort of fun. He'd watched Karofsky squirm and pretended as if he was completely comfortable with his sexuality to someone other than Kurt, which felt really good.

He knew it wouldn't last, but he could smile knowing he'd done this, if only for a little while.

* * *

><p>"What do you want?"<p>

Kurt looked up when he heard Santana's voice. He saw her sitting there looking up at someone. _Blaine._

Kurt eyed him, trying to figure out why he was standing at their table, looking awkward. Gorgeous, but still awkward.

"Um, can I-can I sit with you guys?"

Kurt raised his eyebrows and he saw everyone else do the same. Had the footballers really outcasted him?

"Why on earth would we want you to sit with us?" Rachel asked, in that snooty tone. "You've done nothing but made our lives a misery."

Kurt thought about speaking up, but he didn't think that would help quench the rumours that were going around and as much a he wanted Blaine to just come out and tell the world they were sort-of together, he knew Blaine didn't want that, so he needed to help him and speaking up would not help Blaine in the long run.

Kurt saw Mercedes looking at him and he couldn't really tell what she was trying to say to him. He shrugged and Mercedes rolled her eyes. Rachel was still going on and on about the various things Blaine had done to each member of the glee club.

"Rachel, shut up," Mercedes said and Rachel swung around to look at her, her eyes wide in surprise. "Just let him sit down. He came through for us when we needed him for sectionals, give the guy a break."

Kurt gaped at Mercedes and he knew she was doing this because she had come up with the idea that Kurt had a crush on Blaine just the day before and now these rumours were circulating, so she had obviously put two and two together.

"Come on, Blaine, sit down," Mercedes said, scooting over in her seat, leaving a space between herself and Kurt. Kurt wanted to kick her, because the last thing Blaine needed was to be seen sitting next to the guy he had supposedly been sleeping with. Which he was, Kurt thought, but still. He didn't really have a choice now, because drawing attention to it would make people even more wary.

"It's cool," Blaine said. "I don't want to intr—"

"Blaine, sit down," Kurt said, rolling his eyes.

Blaine sat. A few minutes later everyone had gone back to eating and chatting away and no one even glanced in their direction. Kurt watched as Blaine opened a packet of chips and held the bag up to offer them around the table. Sam, Brittany and Mercedes took one. He offered one to Kurt, but he shook his head.

"How's your day?" Kurt asked, eyes on his sandwich.

"Okay," Blaine said.

"Truthfully, though."

"I pictured it being worse."

"I told you it wouldn't be as bad as you anticipated," Kurt smiled a little.

"I guess," Blaine shrugged. "I spoke with Karofsky just now."

Kurt's heart sank. That couldn't have gone well. Blaine didn't appear to be bruised or cut.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, he agreed to keeping quiet if I did," Blaine said, quietly.

"Did you threaten him?" Kurt asked, frowning.

"Not exactly," Blaine apprised him. "I maybe said a few things I shouldn't have, though."

Kurt turned to look at him then. "Like?"

"Like—I'll tell you later. I can't say it here."

"Oh, God," Kurt groaned, because if he couldn't even say it in a crowded, noisy room where no one was listening, it had to be bad. "Text it to me. Right now."

Blaine sighed and reached into his pocket for his phone. He began to type. A few minutes later, Kurt took out his phone and clicked into the new message.

_I told him we spent last night together. And I said I took your virginity._

Kurt shoved hos phone away, quickly, for fear of someone seeing. He was stunned. Why would Blaine do something like that?

"What the hell?" he hissed.

"I liked watching him squirm," Blaine smiled a little, then sipped from his water bottle. "He's got it bad for you, Hummel," Blaine smirked.

"Ugh, shut up," Kurt grimaced.

"He does," Blaine said, gravely. "Not that I'm happy about it."

Kurt looked at him, his heart stilling for a split second. Every time Blaine said something cute like that he stopped breathing for just a moment and he got butterflies in his stomach. He wondered if Blaine ever got that because of him.

"Really?" Kurt breathed and Blaine nodded. He screwed the cap back on his bottle and laid it down.

"I also might have told him I like my men elegant and stylish, like you."

"Blaine, what the fuck?" Kurt said, quietly. "I thought you were still in denial about the whole being gay thing!"

Kurt felt Blaine's mood change, but he didn't care, because this was weird. One minute, he was adamant that he wasn't gay, the next he was telling people how he liked his men.

"I wanted to piss him off," Blaine shrugged.

"Did it work?"

"Yes, it was awesome," Blaine grinned down at his chocolate bar and Kurt chuckled, because it was funny that Blaine was having such a bad day, yet something as small as this could make him happy.

"What about the others? Puck and Quinn and those guys?" Kurt asked and Blaine's smile disippated.

"That," Blaine said, quietly. "I will tell you about later."

* * *

><p>Blaine took his phone from his pocket and pressed the middle button. The text opened up.<p>

_Good luck. Let me know how it goes.-Kurt._

Blaine smiled and took a deep breath, before slipping his phone back in his pocket. He was going to need all the luck he could get. He hated when his dad got mad, because he shouted and when he shouted, Blaine's insides shook violently and he was always caught between wanting to cry and wanting to hit his father back. He would never do either.

He opened the car door and stepped outside, the air refreshing. He breathed it in as he closed the door slowly, then walked equally slowly up the garden path. He stopped at the door and reached into his pocket for his keys. He felt the cool metal against his fingers and pushed the key into the whole n twisted it clockwise. The door clicked and he pushed it open and stepped into the hall.

Blaine could feel the tention in the house the second he walked inside. His heart was beating manically in his chest as he walked on, wondering where his mother was. He had always had this crazy, irrational fear that his father would end up murdering his mother and would either have fled, or be waiting inside to kill him, too. It was ridiculous, because he didn't think his dad was capable of that, but there had to be a reason he was thinking it, didn't there?

He turned into the living room and no one was there. It was oddly quiet and he didn't like it. He climbed the stairs, quietly and went to his mom's room first. He tapped lightly on the door and when there was no answer he pushed the handle down and walked inside. He saw her there, in the bed. He went closer, to make sure she was okay, then walked back outside, closing the door quietly behind him.

"Blaine."

Blaine almost jumped out of his skins at the sound of his dad's voice behind him. He turned around, heart racing and looked at his dad. He looked stern and serious, as always.

"I hear you didn't go to the game yesterday."

"C-can we do this some place else? So, we don't wake mom?"

Blaine's dad simply stared at him. Blaine didn't dare look away. After a few heart beats, his dad turned and walked towards his home office. Blaine followed behind. He walked inside and it looked the same as ever: Neat, tidy, everything in its place, just how Blaine's dad liked it.

Blaine watched as his dad went and sat in his revolving chair. Blaine stood there until he gestured for him to sit down.

"Explain."

"I joined glee club a while ago," Blaine said, voice uneven. "And the sectionals competition was on at the same time as the game and I-I didn't know what to do."

"You chose a singing contest over _football_?"

"They needed twelve members, dad," Blaine told him.

"That's not your concern," he said, looking disgusted. "That game was your chance to be recognised, Blaine. Scouts from every where were at that game. You missed your chance."

Blaine felt the urge to sigh. He wanted to scream and just leave his dad sitting there and go any where but here, but he couldn't do that.

"There will be other games, dad," Blaine said, quietly.

"That's not the point, Blaine," he said. Blaine really hated it whe he felt the need to use his name in practically every sentence. "The point is that in choosing this ridiculous singing, you've also allowed yourself to be laughed at. You'll wind up with no friends and no girlfriend and then what will you have?"

_Kurt,_ he thought. _I'll have Kurt._

"Those children in glee club aren't like you, Blaine," his father went on. "You're different, special, you come from a good family, from money. Most of them live in small houses and have no money. You have everything, Blaine. A good background and talent. You can't throw that away for a silly singing competition!"

"Show choir."

"What?"

"It's show choir. That's what it's called and it's not silly," Blaine said. He was fed up, tired of everything. "I like doing it and I'm good at it."

"Show choir isn't going to get you into a top college, Blaine."

Blaine stayed quiet, because he didn't actually have an answer for that.

"And what about Quinn?"

_Quinn_. Why did they always have to bring Quinn into it?

"What about her?" Blaine almost groaned, but thought better of it.

"Well, you two seem to be getting along fine," his father said. "If and when you do marry her, she'll need you to be able to provide for her and your family, when the time comes."

Blaine stared at his father open-mouthed. Blaine couldn't imagine having to spend the rest of his life with Quinn, even if he knew it was probably inevitable.

"Dad, I don't even like Quinn."

"You don't have to like her, Blaine. She's just the best choice for you," his dad told him and Blaine raised his eyebrows. "Do you think I like your mother?"

Blaine got angry, then. He had never stood up to his dad, not ever, but now he stood up out of his seat and leaned over the table.

"That's exactly why she's the way she is!" Blaine said, voice raising. "It's your fault! I don't want to end up like you!"

Blaine's dad stood up, too, then. He was taller than Blaine, most people were and he looked really mad. Blaine's body was shaking with anger and frustration. He clenched his fists and he could feel his finger nails digging sharply into the palms of his hands.

"Do you want to know what else I heard today from Noah Puckerman's mother?"

Blaine knew what he was going to say. He knew he had heard the rumours (albeit true ones) about himself and Kurt that Karofsky had been spreading around before they had come to an agreement.

"I can guess," Blaine said, sighing, not caring what his father thought any more. If he wanted to beat him to a pulp, so be it. At least he wouldn't die a coward, or at least not in this respect.

"Perhaps, then, you would like to enlighten me," he said, folding his arms. "Where do these rumours come from, Blaine? Do they just grow up out of the ground?"

"They come from David Karofsky being a fucking asshole," Blaine said and his father's eyes filled with intent. He was getting close to boiling point and if Blaine had had any sense, he would have apologised and gotten out of there, but he didn't.

"Language!" his father shouted. "David Karofsky is from a good family."

"So what?" Blaine said. "What is the definition of a good family anyway? Money? Never being home? Being abusive to your wife and son? Because you seem to have that one down pat, don't you, d—"

Blaine stopped, because his father had pushed him hard against the wall. Blaine wanted to push him back. He was sure he could overpower him, but there was something about hitting a parent that didn't sit right with him, so he didn't do it. He tried to hold him off, but it wasn't working.

"So, David just made up these stories about you, did he?" his dad asked, through gritted teeth as he held him firmly up against the wall. "He just decided he would tell the world you were having relations with this faggot? Just for fun?"

Blaine tried to shove away, but his dad pushed him back hard and his back hit the wall, sending the tremor of pain all through him. He groaned. He hated his dad, hated him for what he did to his mom, hated him for what he did to him, hate him for calling Kurt a faggot.

"Karofsky made it up because I joined glee, that's all!" Blaine managed, his ribs aching.

"I hope so," his dad said, voice low and cutting. Blaine felt his stomach dropping. "You need to stay faithful to Quinn in order to—"

"Like you've been so faithful to mom?" Blaine spat out. He wasn't going to take this any more. He couldn't. "Don't think I don't know."

"That," Blaine's dad said, pushing him across to the desk. "Is none of your business."

Blaine lost his footing and fell back on top of the table, knocking everything off. _Good, _he thought. His dad hated a mess.

"And what if I was gay?" Blaine said, his heart beating wildly. He had never said those words out loud before. "What could you do? Nothing."

"I'll show you what I can do!"

Blaine didn't reply because his father's fist collided with his face and Blaine's head flung back against the desk. It throbbed instantly and he felt his eyes closing a little. Then he hit him again and again and again and Blaine knew he was going to pass out from all the smacks of his head against the hard wooden table. The last thing he thought was that he wouldn't be able to text Kurt back to let him know how it went. Then the world went black and the darkness consumed him, sucked him in until there was nothing, not even pain any more.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sorry, that was an awful thing to leave off on! I'll try my hardest to get the next part done tomorrow, but lately it's been taking me an extra day, I don't know why. Anyway, I will try, I swear. Let me know what you think! :)<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Alrighty finally done! I own nothing! Also, I've been asked to write the field sex scene that I skipped over in the last chapter, so I'm going to do that at some point and just add it as an extra chapter. Anyway, I'll stop talking now :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15.<strong>

**7.05 P.M.**

_How'd it go?_

**8.32 P.M.**

_Should I take your silence as 'really bad'?_

**8.57 P.M.**

_You know you can tell me, right?_

**9.43 P.M.**

_Blaine, answer me right now, you're freaking me out._

**10.14 P.M.**

_Blaine, I'm serious, now. Just one word to let me know you're okay._

**11.01 P.M.**

_You're making me seem like the biggest stalker alive, Blaine. Now I'm getting worried. I'm calling you._

**11.03 P.M.**

No reply.

**11.05 P.M.**

No reply.

**12.02 A.M.**

_Okay, last chance. It's after midnight. Text me back within the next ten minutes, or I'm coming over._

**Voicemail left at 12.16 A.M.**

_Blaine. Jesus, Blaine, pick up, you asshole. I'm going to crash my car now and it'll be all your fault. Fuck. You had better not be just ignoring me because you're having one of your moods. Shit.. Oh my God, CAN YOU STAY ON YOUR OWN SIDE OF THE ROAD, WHAT THE FUCK? Damn. Blaine, I can't believe you're doing this. Ugh. Okay, I'm almost there. I'm hanging up. Oh, God. Please just be having one of your moods..._

* * *

><p>He felt as if he was rocking back and forth, his movements speeding up until he couldn't stop. But he wasn't moving. He was lying still. He felt the hard, cold ground beneath him and he tried to open his eyes, but it felt as if pressure was being pressed down on his skull every time he did.<p>

The room was swaying with him in it and his body felt as if it was prickling all over and he was confused and lost and didn't know where he was, or what had happened, or what was going to happen.

He tried to open his eyes again, as he pushed himself up by the palms of his hands. Everything spun and a buzzing sound began to scream loudly in his ears. There was a sharp pain at the back of his head and the back of his neck ached. He fell back down to the ground, too weak to try to get up again. Just five more minutes sleep and he would be just fine.

* * *

><p>Kurt cursed under his breath as he stopped his car outside Blaine's house. He knew something was wrong. He could feel it. He walked up the drive way, legs wobbling a little, his heart hammering in is chest. He felt as if cold water was running down his back. Blaine's car was there, which meant he was home. This was bad.<p>

He tapped lightly on the door, hoping, praying to a God he didn't even believe in, that someone would come to it and tell him Blaine was fine, just sleeping, or something. Or better still, that Blaine himself would come to the door and tell him he was just mad. Mad was better than in trouble. Kurt would take mad.

Kurt waited for 3 minutes, his anxiety levels were through the roof. He remembered feeling exactly like this when he had been told his dad had had a heart attack. He remembered feeling like this all the way to the hospital.

He wondered if he should go home, let someone else worry, maybe one of his friends. Then Kurt remembered that Blaine's friends sucked. He shook his head and went around the side of the house, hoping the neighbours wouldn't think he was a burglar. That was when he saw the open window.

His heart was racing. He had never done anything like this before. He cursed Blaine under his breath for making him care, then raised himself up on to the window ledge. He could slide through there with no problem. He took a deep breath, then pushed himself through, catching the hem of his shirt on something sharp in the corner.

"Bitch," Kurt muttered, as he jumped down into a room. He looked around. He appeared to be in a dining room.

The room was as intricately decorated as the rest of the house. There was a small, round table in the centre of the room, with four chairs surrounding it. Beneath the legs of the table and chairs was a large, rectangular, wine coloured rug. It had twirling gold designs all over it and it lay across a varnished, wooden floor. It looked like a perfect room where a perfect family ate a perfect dinner together. Kurt would have laughed if it weren't for the man-eating butterflies that seemed to be circling inside his stomach.

Kurt headed for the stairs, figuring if Blaine was home, he would most likely be in his room. He kept thinking someone would bump into him and demand he tell them what he was doing walking around their house. He wouldn't have an answer.

He reached the staircase and took a cautious step onto the first stair. It creaked and he cursed under his breath again. He waited a moment. The sound of his heart thumping made it hard to listen for anyone that might be coming his way. He sighed and continued up the stairs. When he reached the top, he looked around. There wasn't a sound. He headed to Blaine's room.

Kurt knocked lightly on Blaine's bedroom door, then he thought about the fact that he shouldn't really knock. There was little that Blaine could have been doing that Kurt hadn't already seen. He took the handle in his sweating hands and twisted it anti-clockwise. He pushed the door open and walked inside.

Blaine wasn't there. Everything was neat and tidy, everything in its place. The bed hadn't been slept in. Kurt couldn't help thinking the worst. He opened Blaine's bathroom door and looked inside. Nothing. Now he was really worried.

He rushed out of Blaine's room, unsure of what to do. The notion of calling the police crossed his mind but he wasn't sure if he should or not. He didn't even know for definite that Blaine was in trouble.

_Yes, you do,_ his mind said and he tried to ignore it as he walked swiftly down the hall, opening random doors as he went. Blaine's mom was in one of the rooms, under the covers of a bed. He closed that door quickly and continued on. He reached the end of the hall, after having no success and saw a final closed door. This was the only room he hadn't checked. He wasn't prepared for what might be behind it, but now was no time for being afraid. He inhaled deeply then reached out and pushed the door open.

This room appeared to be some kind of office or study. It was a mess. Pens and pencils and staplers and loose sheets of paper were scattered every where. It looked as if someone had ransacked the room and then left. It reminded Kurt of the time his old house had been broken into. It had looked as if someone had picked up his house, turned it upside down and shook it. He also had the same feeling then that he did now. His insides were quivering and his heart was racing and his blood felt as if it was running cold through his veins. Something had happened and he had no idea what.

Kurt turned around to leave the room. He was going to call the police. It seemed like the right thing to do. He guessed he could wake Blaine's mom and ask her, but that would have been extremely awkward. Just as he began to walk outside the room, he heard a sound behind him. His heart stilled. Kurt turned around and listened carefully. He heard it again.

_A groan._

If Kurt knew anything, he knew the sound of Blaine's groans. He rolled his eyes at his own inappropriate thoughts and moved forward. Blaine was flat on his back behind the desk. He was semi-conscious and Kurt let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Blaine," Kurt exhaled, dropping to his knees next to the other boy. "God, Blaine, what happened?"

* * *

><p>"Blaine," the voice sounded like a distant echo. "Blaine, open your eyes. God, Blaine, just please open your eyes."<p>

Maybe he was dead. Maybe that distant voice was some kind of angel. Or maybe a demon, depending on where he had ended up. It didn't sound like a demon, though. The voice was gentle and Blaine would have said calm, but the voice didn't really sound calm. It sounded alarmed, laced with fear and concern.

"Blaine, can you hear me?"

He tried to speak, tried to say yes, but nothing came. He just wanted to sleep some more.

"Don't—Blaine, don't go to sleep, wake up."

Blaine felt the tight grip on his shoulders. He was being gently shaken.

"Blaine, come on. _Please, _Blaine," the distant voice said. It was getting closer and closer.

"A-am I dead?" he managed, his voice shaky and uneven. His throat felt like sand paper.

"No," the voice said. "No, no. You're alive. Open your eyes. Come on, Blaine, just open your eyes."

Blaine tried to pry his eyes open. They felt stuck, but he pushed anyway, because this voice, this tranquil voice wanted him to open his eyes. He managed to get them open a little, the light shocking and a little too much. His head was throbbing, especially at the back. He pulled his eyes apart and allowed them to adapt to this new light.

He saw them, then, these bright blue, glistening orbs. They were watching him, the icy gaze locked on him. They reminded him of the ocean during the summer. Everything was a little blurred and he had a chronic headache, but that blue was so familiar to him..

He opened his eyes all the way and felt himself smiling up at the owner of the stunning blue eyes and the beautiful voice. He opened his mouth and breathed his name.

"_Kurt_."

* * *

><p>"I'm calling the cops—"<p>

"Don't!"

Kurt turned back to look at Blaine. He had helped him to his room and gotten him down on the bed. Blaine had told him, rather groggily, what had happened and Kurt was mad. He wanted to punch something.

"Kurt, just—please d-don't, okay?"

Kurt looked at Blaine. He looked terrible. His eyes were half-lidded and his hair was a mess and he looked so worn out. His eyes were filled with fear. They were pleading with him, begging him not to do anything. Kurt sighed.

"Fine," he said, sitting back down. "But I'm not happy about it. Let me see your head."

Kurt climbed across the bed until he was kneeling next to Blaine.

"I'm fine," Blaine said, as Kurt tilted his head forward to get a look at the back.

Kurt pushed his hair our of the way and felt the large bump protruding from his head.

"Damn," Kurt breathed and Blaine winced at his touch. "Sorry."

Kurt let his hair fall back down and sat down next to Blaine, with a sigh.

"I'm concussed," Blaine slurred out.

"Hmm?"

"I've had enough concussions to know the sym-symptoms by now," Blaine said, then yawned.

Kurt frowned and wondered how badly Blaine had been hurt in the past. He wanted to get him out of there more than anything in the world. He gave in and reached down to place a hand over Blaine's. Blaine didn't pull away.

"I left you so many messages," Kurt told him. "Just a heads up for when you finally check your phone. I wasn't being creepy, I just had a feeling something was up."

Blaine tilted his head to look at him and Kurt saw him flinch at the pain it induced. His eyes were half-closed. He looked tired and miserable and Kurt just didn't know what to do.

"I'm okay, Kurt," Blaine said and Kurt tried to object, tell him he was actually not okay. "Seriously, I've been through this a million times. I'll always be okay. Don't worry about me."

"Yeah, okay, Blaine. Let me just leave my feelings at the door on the way in," Kurt said, rolling his eyes. As if not caring about Blaine was that easy. Blaine looked a little uncomfortable at the mention of feelings.

"You're the f-first person who's ever come looking for me, you know," Blaine said, sounding a bit dazed. "No one else has ever given a damn."

Kurt gave his hand a soft squeeze. They were silent for a little while, then Kurt remembered that you were supposed to keep talking to a person who had a concussion.

"So, um, do you think he'll come home? Your dad?"

"Probably not."

"I'll stay with you, if you want," Kurt offered.

Blaine looked at him, his eyes were still half-lidded, but Kurt could see those golden orbs peeking out at him.

"You don't h-have to," Blaine told him.

"I'll leave if you want me t—"

"That wasn't what I m-meant," Blaine corrected. "I just meant, won't y-your dad wonder where you are?"

"Well," Kurt said, looking up at the small, plastic clock on Blaine's wall. "It's almost 2 A.M. Maybe I could get back before he wakes up."

"I don't want to get you in trouble."

"And I sort of want you to live," Kurt retorted. "So, yeah, I'll stay."

Blaine gave him a small, grateful smile.

"Can you do me a favour?" Blaine asked, quietly, then. "Because it hurts to move."

"Anything," Kurt said, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Kiss me?"

Kurt stared at him, trying to work out if he was being serious or not. Blaine nodded as much as he could and Kurt blinked a couple of times.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, though," Blaine said, looking away.

Kurt sighed. He couldn't remember the last time he hadn't wanted to kiss Blaine. He chuckled a bit as he leaned closer. Blaine looked up at him, curiously.

"I always want to kiss you," Kurt told him, then he pressed a gentle kiss to Blaine's lips.

"I appreciate you being gentle with me right now, but I'm not going to break," Blaine told him, smiling slightly. Kurt felt Blaine's fingers gripping the front of his shirt and tugging him towards him. "Come on, pretty boy. Kiss me like you mean it."

"Pretty boy?" Kurt breathed against Blaine's lips, one eyebrow raised.

"I am horribly concussed, I can't be held a-accountable for the things I say," Blaine whispered back, his breath warm on Kurt's skin.

"We're not having sex," Kurt said, when he felt Blaine's fingers brushing their way up his thigh. "No way."

Blaine chuckled and kept moving his hand up anyway. Kurt reached back and pried his hand off of his ass. Blaine pouted a bit, then winced in pain.

"Spoil sport."

"Why are you always so horny?"

"It disappoints me that you're not," Blaine giggled a little and Kurt smiled.

"Are you really okay?" Kurt asked, in a hushed tone.

"I'm fine," Blaine apprised him. "I don't break that easily, you know."

Kurt just studied him, still smiling a bit. Blaine looked so tired. His skin was pale and his lips were dry and his movements were lethargic. The almost-yellow light coming from the light over head made him look even more sickly. Kurt reached up and pushed his curls away from his forehead, then outstretched his hand to flick the light switch, leaving them in darkness.

"You should probably get some rest," Kurt told him.

"You should kiss me first," Blaine smiled in what little moon light slipped through the open blind on the window. "And a real one this time."

Kurt rolled his eyes, but bent his head to kiss Blaine anyway. Blaine kissed him back, lazily. Their teeth kept clacking and Blaine kept trying to go faster, but he wasn't fit for that. Kurt pulled away, gently and smiled down at him.

"Now lie down and stop being so difficult," Kurt demanded, jokingly.

Blaine lay back, slowly and smiled at Kurt, then pulled him by the hand until he landed down next to him. Blaine didn't let his hand go.

"Hey, Kurt?" Blaine whispered, in the dark.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks, okay?"

"Don't thank me, I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did," Blaine told him. "You were here for me."

"I'll always be here for you," Kurt told him.

He meant it, too. There was nowhere else he would rather be.

* * *

><p>"Where were you last night?"<p>

Kurt stopped peeling his orange and looked up at his dad, eyes wide. Burt was watching him, expectantly, waiting for an answer. Kurt figured honesty was the best policy. He sighed.

"I was at Blaine's."

Burt looked alarmed, then, his forehead tightening.

"I thought you said he had a girlfriend," Burt said, accusingly. "And that he was an ass."

"He does have a girlfriend, dad," Kurt groaned a little. "And he's still an ass, just maybe not as much of an ass as I initially believed."

Kurt was pretty sure now that Blaine wasn't really an ass. He was just sort of letting things pilot his life, instead of doing it himself. He wasn't a bad person, not really.

"So, you just spent the night at this guy's house—this guy who has a girlfriend?"

"Dad, it's not like that," Kurt said, even though that's exactly how it was.

"Tell me how it is, then, Kurt."

Kurt wavered here. He wasn't sure he should tell anyone about Blaine's personal problems, but maybe Burt would know what to do, because Kurt was at a loss.

"We've been sort of hanging out," Kurt shrugged. It was difficult to explain how they were at ease with one another without adding the fact that their relationship was more than just platonic. "He's been telling me about his family and stuff. His dad is extremely abusive and the other day, Blaine went to sectionals instead of his football game, so his dad got really mad and sort of, um..."

"Sort of what?"

"He sort of beat him up," Kurt said, mildly. "Actually, he smashed his head repeatedly off of a wooden desk."

Burt looked appalled. "He did that to his own son?"

Kurt nodded. "Yes and I texted Blaine a few times, then called him and got no reply, so I went over there."

"Kurt—"

"His dad wasn't home," Kurt explained. "But I found Blaine and he was in a bad state. He had a concussion, so I stayed with him to make sure he was okay."

Burt looked sort of proud. He reached out and gave Kurt a pat on the shoulder.

"That was good of you, Kurt," he said. "So, he was okay?"

"I think so," Kurt shrugged. Blaine had been fairly normal when he had left him alone that morning. He'd tried to open his jeans again, so he couldn't have been too sick.

"I know there's something you're not telling me, Kurt."

Kurt looked up at his dad, who was wearing an expression that said _I know. _He couldn't know, though, how could he? Kurt tried to think of ways he might have let it slip, but beyond looking like a lovesick puppy, he couldn't come up with anything.

"I told you everything, dad," Kurt said, quickly.

"We don't lie to each other, remember?"

They had made that pact after Kurt's mom had died, when he was eight. They promised they would always be honest with each other, because being honest always meant that if one had a problem, the other might be able to help.

"Fine," Kurt sighed, feeling defeated. "I might be in love with him." He had never admitted that out loud, he hadn't even really admitted it to himself, but it was true. He was falling harder and harder every day and he didn't know what to do about it.

"Does his girlfriend know he's gay?"

Kurt's head shot up to look at his dad.

"Blaine's not gay, dad."

"Are you kidding me?" Burt chuckled, taking a sip of coffee from his cup. "I knew that kid was gay the second I set eyes on him."

Kurt let his jaw drop. Apparently, his dad had super, awesome gaydar. And apparently, everyone knew Blaine was gay, except for Blaine himself.

"No," Kurt said, giving in. "His girlfriend doesn't know. At least, not really."

"What do you mean 'not really'?"

Kurt told him the story about Karofsky spreading rumours and how everyone has made assumptions, simply because Blaine had chosen glee over football. Burt nodded at the end of it and looked right at Kurt, their eyes level.

"And these rumours," he said. "Are they true?"

_We'll always be honest with each other, Kurt. Always._

"Yes."

Burt closed his eyes and exhaled hard.

"But he has a girlfriend, Kurt."

"I know that, dad," Kurt said. "Do you think I don't know that? Do you think I don't stay awake at night thinking about that?"

Kurt didn't hate Quinn Fabray. He didn't exactly like her, but he didn't hate her, either. He just wished she would go away sometimes. And not in a creepy 'I-would-go-to-great-lengths-to-get-rid-of-her' way, either. He just didn't like that she was only with Blaine for stature and that she didn't even listen to him, or worry about him.

"Kurt, the boy's having his cake and eating it, too," Burt said and Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You can't accept him using you—"

"He's not using me, dad."

"Of course, you think that," Burt said. "But Kurt, he's goin' around with that girl in public and hiding you from the world."

Kurt almost laughed, because he was suddenly finding parallels in his own life to 'Jane Eyre'. He didn't laugh, though, because the entire situation seemed so grave.

"I raised you better than that, Kurt," Burt said. "If he's not willin' to tell everyone that you're with him, then he's not worthy of you."

Kurt smiled up at his dad, his eyes suddenly teary. He loved his dad. He always told him the truth, even if it was something he didn't want to hear.

"I know, dad," Kurt nodded. "But he's not a bad guy, he's just a little lost."

"Lost or not," Burt said, sitting back. "If he's not treatin' you right, then you can't sit back and take that. Stand up for yourself. No one pushes the Hummels around, right?"

Kurt smiled, then and his dad smiled back a little. He wasn't the overly affectionate type, but Kurt was so grateful to him for everything.

"Right," Kurt affirmed.

"Good," Burt said. "Now, get yourself ready. The traffic will be hectic with people doing last minute Christmas shopping."

* * *

><p>"Oh my God," Kurt gasped when Blaine walked into English later that day. "Your eyes."<p>

When Blaine had woken up that morning, he had looked in the mirror to find that he had two black eyes from the knocking around his dad had given him. Never had he cursed anyone so hard in all his life.

He guessed Quinn was right, that black eyes sort of did make him look tough and badass, so he didn't mind coming to school looking like this too much. Now, however, he wished he hadn't because the horror on Kurt's face made him want to do something crazy, like cry and Blaine hadn't cried in four years.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Blaine said sliding into his seat, his arm brushing off Kurt's. He heard Kurt sighing beside him. He sounded fed up, tired and like he was about to give up. "What?" Blaine asked.

"Nothing," Kurt said, shaking his head. "Just—my dad figured it all out this morning."

Blaine went alert all over, like a cat. "He—what part?"

"_All of it_," Kurt said. "He asked where I was last night, so I told him and then he said he knew there was something else." Kurt's voice dropped a notch lower. "Then he asked me if your girlfriend knew you were gay."

"What the hell?"

"Right?" Kurt said, opening his book. "It's like you're the only one who doesn't know."

"I'm not—"

"Save it for someone who didn't make out with you on your bed at 2 A.M. this morning, Blaine."

* * *

><p>"Dude, it's the only way to show everyone the truth!"<p>

"I have a headache," Blaine said, gesturing to his black eyes. He had told Puck and the others that he'd gotten in a fight with some random guys when he went to buy milk for his mom. They bought it, just as he had expected they would.

Puck rolled his own eyes. "You don't need your head to be in perfect condition for this," Puck informed him. "He's small, skinny. You could take him with your eyes closed."

_And I have_, Blaine thought, but he didn't think pointing that out would do him any good, especially since Puck was talking about taking Kurt in a different way entirely, a way that Blaine definitely did not want to take him.

"Come on, Anderson," Azimio said. "Squash these stupid rumours for good."

Blaine sighed. He didn't want to hurt Kurt, he _wouldn't _hurt Kurt, but he was threading a thin line. People were laughing at him behind his back and he just wasn't used to that. He didn't know how to handle that. Things were already bad with his dad and if he didn't fix he didn't even want to think about what might happen. Maybe military school was in his future.

"All you gotta do is give the kid a light beating," Puck said, patting Blaine hard on the back. He jumped a little. "Do it for the team, Anderson. You already let us down with the game. _You owe us._"

Blaine hated owing people, which was why he never took anything from anyone for free. Owing people meant they had something over you. He couldn't owe anyone.

"When?"

"Why not now?" Puck grinned, his eyes flashing.

"Where?" Blaine asked. He felt sick. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. He didn't ever want to hurt Kurt.

"We'll figure it out," Puck said. "Come on."

Blaine watched Puckerman and Azimio walk away. He stayed still for a second, his head spinning. He pushed away the urge to vomit as best as he could and followed the other guys.

Regardless of what Kurt thought, Blaine knew the cold, hard truth: Blaine Anderson was not a good person.

* * *

><p>The crash of his back against the side of the metal locker sent a stabbing pain all down his spine. It had all happened so fast and now he was being held up against the locker by two strong hands.<p>

"What the f—"

"Don't talk, Hummel," Puck said, pushing Kurt roughly back. "I don't like these rumours being spread about my bro, Anderson."

"Well, maybe you should ask your _bro_, Karofsky why he's spreading them," Kurt retorted.

Puck went on as if Kurt hadn't even spoken. "So, we're going to teach you a lesson for being so _gay_," Puck snarled. "Blaine here is going to make sure there's no cause for these stinkin' rumours around here any more."

Kurt mentally questioned his word order, because it was confusing, but he stayed quiet anyway, his eyes going to Blaine, who stood a few steps behind Puck, next to Azimio. Azimio was laughing, but Blaine just looked like he wanted to sit down and close his bruised eyes.

Kurt just wanted to shake him until he realised he was going about things all wrong. Choosing glee over football was a step in the right direction, but now he plummeting back downhill.

"Anderson," Puck grinned, expecting Blaine to take over.

Blaine wavered, then stepped forward as Puck stepped back. Blaine stopped and looked down the hall.

"I hear Figgins," he said and he looked sincere, even though Kurt knew Figgins was not any where nearby.

Puck and Azimio looked down the hall.

"I don't hear nothin'," Azimio said.

"Dude, I'm telling you Figgins is coming," Blaine said, looking at his friend.

"Fine, whatever, we can do this some place else," Puck said and Kurt saw Blaine sighing silently.

"Like where?"

"Uh," Puck looked confused. He tended to look confused very frequently anyway, so this wasn't really anything new. "I know!"

Kurt, Blaine and Azimio watched as Puck walked across the hall, a smug smile on his face, clearly happy that he had actually come up with an idea. Kurt wondered if he should applaud him, but he decided that probably wouldn't help him if they were going to beat him up. At least he could probably count on Blaine going light on him.

Puck reached out and pulled the janitor's closet open, the infamous janitor's closet. Kurt rolled his eyes. This was his big idea. All four of them wouldn't even fit in there, there was no way.

Azimio reached out with his big hand and tugged Kurt across to where Puck stood. Puck reached out then and pushed Kurt inside the closet. He collided with an equipment trolley then stumbled and hit the hard, cement ground. That was going to leave a bruise.

Kurt looked up at the exact time that Puck pushed Blaine in after him.

"Have fun, Anderson," Puck laughed loudly. "We'll be out here keeping watch."

The door closed with a loud bang and Blaine's body went loose. He sighed and looked down at Kurt in the dim light of the over head bulb, that hung from the ceiling. Blaine extended a hand to Kurt, which he took and allowed him to pull him to his feet.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asked, quietly.

"How are you going to get out of this one?" Kurt said, ignoring Blaine's question.

Blaine sighed again and shook his head.

"Just.. act like your hurt, or something, I don't know."

"They'll be listening, you know," Kurt whispered. "They'll know."

Panic swept over Blaine's face and he stood up straight. Kurt watched as he walked across the room, then raised his arm and started punching the old, broken lockers in the corner.

"Blaine!" Kurt hissed and reached out to grab his arm back. "What the fuck, Blaine? Stop that!"

"They're listening," Blaine whispered. "I have to make some sort of noise. It might help if you did some groaning, too."

Blaine lifted his arm again, fist clenched, bur Kurt pushed him backwards until he was against the wall.

"What are you—"

"Do you have some kind of masochistic streak?"

"What? I—"

"Blaine, stop punching things, okay?" Kurt said, his blue eyes level with Blaine's.

"But they—"

"I don't care," Kurt said, then sighed. "Look, maybe you should just hit me."

Blaine's hazel eyes went round as saucers and his mouth dropped open.

"Are you kidding me?" he demanded. "I am not—"

"I don't mind," Kurt said. "If it'll make them lay off you, I'm okay with it."

Blaine's face twisted and he looked distraught. "You think I'd hit you just so that they'd leave me alone?"

Kurt hadn't really thought that far ahead. He had suggested it without really considering Blaine's stance on it. He simply shrugged.

"I wouldn't ever," Blaine shook his head. "Now, move back, I need to.."

Blaine moved forward and continued to punch the lockers fiercely, groaning every time his fist crashed down against the hard metal. Kurt continued to try to stop him, but it was no use. He took a step back and sighed. That was when he got his idea. He waited, watched Blaine's pace, as he retracted his arm and plunged it forward again and again. When he thought he knew the rhythm well enough, Kurt waited until Blaine moved his arm backwards, then he moved forward and landed right in front of Blaine as his fist came crashing forward. It struck Kurt's left cheek painfully and Kurt cried out, but so did Blaine.

Kurt watched as Blaine stepped back, his face a mask of sheer horror. Kurt lifted his own hand to rub his injured face and then Blaine was shouting at him.

"What are you—Oh my God. Why would you—Kurt. _Fuck_. I cannot believe you—Are you an idiot?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and it hurt, because Blaine packed a mean punch. Blaine stopped yelling then and moved towards Kurt.

"Let me see," he said, softly. He pushed Kurt's hand out of the way and studied his throbbing cheek. "Fuck, Kurt. Why would you do this?"

Blaine sounded as if he might cry. Kurt hadn't ever seen Blaine cry, but this was the closest he had come to it since he had met him. His hands were cradling his face, his fingers gentle. Blaine looked distraught, his eyes were sad and his bottom lip was caught between his teeth.

"I'm fine," Kurt told him. "Honestly, it doesn't hurt that badly."

"Kurt, I can't believe you would..." Blaine trailed off and he closed his eyes. He took a deep inhale, Kurt could see his chest rising slowly in the bleak light. When he exhaled, he opened his eyes and looked right at Kurt, his head shaking ever so slightly. "This is officially the worst week of my life."

Kurt's cheek was pulsating now. It hurt every time he blinked, every time he opened his mouth. He forced himself to speak anyway.

"I figure they would have made it much worse if I had left this closet without a mark on me," he whispered.

Blaine sighed silently. "Kurt, stop protecting me, okay? I don't want you to protect me from them."

"Why?"

"Because you end up getting hurt," Blaine told him. "I don't know any more. I wish I'd never dragged you into this." He sighed again, tiredly. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

Kurt studied him for a minute. He looked like he was about to fall apart. He wanted to go to him, wrap him up in his arms and tell him he would always protect him, because even though Blaine was still giving in to Puck and those guys, that didn't change the fact that Kurt really, really cared about him. He didn't take him in his arms, however, because he and Blaine had a less touchy-feely relationship, when it came to affection that wasn't sexual.

"I don't regret it, you know," Kurt apprised him, firmly, his cheek still throbbing painfully. He wondered what it must look like now. "I don't regret one second of our time together, even if you do."

Blaine's golden eyes flashed briefly as he gave Kurt a surprised look.

"No," Blaine uttered. "No, I don't regret this, us. I don't. I just wish—I just wish things were easier."

"Me, too."

They stayed silent for a little while, then Blaine's hand was tilting Kurt's head sideways as he squinted to examine his cheek.

"How bad do I look?" Kurt asked, smiling a bit. It hurt when he smiled. His face felt stiff and sore.

"You never look bad," Blaine told him, his voice low and gentle. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" Kurt asked. "I'm the one that did it."

"It's my fault we're even in this mess in the first place," Blaine said, his fingers lingering on Kurt's face. "You're right. I'm a coward."

Kurt shrugged one shoulder. Blaine's cowardice was something he couldn't really deny. He was afraid of confrontation, afraid of showing who he really was.

He raised his glimmering, honey-coloured eyes to Kurt's and said, "I'll make this up to you, I promise."

"Blaine, blow jobs don't count."

Blaine spluttered, just as Kurt hoped he would. He wished he would just smile and get over it. On the other hand, Kurt was a little pleased that Blaine had been so beat up about hurting him. It meant he gave a damn.

"Seriously, though, I will," he smiled, sadly, his thumb brushing lightly over the line of Kurt's jaw. "I never, ever want to hurt you, Kurt. God. Why would you do something so dumb?"

Kurt sighed. His stomach did a little somersault when Blaine said he never wanted to hurt him, but he needed to set him straight regarding the entire situation. "Blaine, look," he began. "Hitting me isn't really the point here and while I'm not exactly mad at you,—I know you're going through a lot, so it's not really anger—I just can't help but point out that the point is that you agreed to coming inside this closet to beat me up. I mean, I know you wouldn't do it, I know that, I do, but the thought does count, Blaine. Coming in here with me and pretending to hurt me doesn't make it okay, you know?"

Blaine nodded. He looked like a puppy who had just been kicked. "I know that," Blaine told him. "Like I said, I'm a coward."

"You're getting better, though," Kurt smiled, because nobody wanted to see a kicked puppy. "Did you break your hand?" Kurt asked, changing the subject. He took Blaine's hand in his own. It was shaking a little and red raw from punching the lockers. Kurt was shocked that the skin hadn't broken.

"It's fine," Blaine stated.

"I think you've had enough of a beating without doing this to yourself," Kurt frowned.

"It felt good to take my anger out on something, even if my hand looks like it does," Blaine said, studying his red hand. "I just wasn't counting on you jumping in there like that."

"That was sort of the point," Kurt told him. "Maybe we should get out of here. They'll be wondering.."

Blaine suddenly looked really angry, his dark browns furrowed and his eyes went a shade darker. He clenched his fists and sighed hard. Kurt almost expected to see smoke coming from his ears.

"Relax," Kurt whispered, his face still aching. He was going to need an ice pack.

"No," Blaine said. "I want to kill both of them."

"I think you should avoid fights for the next while," Kurt told him.

Blaine looked at him, his head tilted a little. He sighed for what had to be the hundredth time that day. He reached across then and took Kurt's hand in his own, the one that he hadn't punched the lockers with. He entwined his fingers with Kurt's and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

"You know I'm sorry, right?" Blaine emitted. "For everything?"

Kurt looked down at him. He looked sincerely sorry and Kurt knew that he was sorry. He just wished there was something they could do about it.

"I know," he nodded. "Now go out there and act like your arm hurts from punching."

"It sort of does," Blaine chuckled.

They let go of each other's hands and Blaine pushed the door open and stepped out. His expression went dark again when he laid eyes on Puck and Azimio. Kurt limped out after him, breathing heavily. He let out little whining sounds as he began walking down the hall, away from them. He heard Puck and Azimio laughing and shouting names after him. Then he heard Puck asking Blaine something.

"Don't talk to me," Blaine said, gruffly and Kurt turned to see him storming off in the other direction.

Maybe he wasn't such a hopeless case, after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Just wanted to say thanks for the reviews again and to everyone who wrote to me on my tumblr, too. Seriously, I love all of you, you don't even know. I'll update either tomorrow, or the next day :) Anyhooo let me know what you think! :)<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**I own nothing. Islands in the Stream is by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers, I'm going to assume everyone knows it and if not, I'll post the link on my profile. It's not a major part of it, or anything, but I'll post it anyway. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16:<strong>

**December 25th at 10.33 A.M.  
><strong>To: Kurt.  
><em>I never did find out if you celebrated Christmas, but if you do, Merry Christmas and if you don't, have a good Tuesday. -Blaine.<em>

**December 25th at 10.36 A.M.**

To: Blaine.  
><em>You and my dad both got me the same perfume. -Q.<em>

**December 25th at 10.37 A.M.**

To: Blaine.  
><em>Merry Christmas, Blaine :) -Kurt.<em>

**December 25th at 10.41 A.M.**

To: Kurt.  
><em>Hope your face is okay.<em>

**January 1st at 00.01 A.M.**

To: Blaine.  
><em>Happy New Year, Blaine! <em>

**January 1st at 00.02 A.M.**

To: Kurt.  
><em>Back atcha. I miss talking to you.<em>

**January 1st at 00.05 A.M.**

To: Blaine.  
><em>Me, too. Not long now until school. I'll see you then.<em>

**January 1st at 00.06 A.M.**

To: Kurt.  
><em>I guess. <em>

**January 1st at 00.11 A.M.**

To: Blaine.  
><em>Cheer up, it's the new year! Plus, we're back to assignments, so it'll be back to our corner in the library, with whatsherface shooting us dirty looks. Don't tell me that's not cause for a smile.<em>

**January 1st at 00.15 A.M.**

To: Kurt.  
><em>And this is why I miss you.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: BLAINE.<br>**_Morning. Quick text to tell you to get the word around the glee kids that they should bring extra clothes to school. Also, wear a hat, or something. I'm sorry. See you later-B._

Kurt raised his eyebrows and re-read the text six times, before sending a group message to everyone from glee club. Blaine never ceased to amaze him.

* * *

><p>"Kurt!"<p>

Kurt swung around from his locker to see Rachel running towards him, grinning from ear to ear. She flung her arms around him before he could open his mouth to speak.

"Eeeeek!" she squealed, squeezing Kurt harder.

"Rachel," Kurt choked out. "You're.. ow, Rachel."

"Oh!" Rachel pulled away, but her hands were still gripping Kurt's arms. "Sorry! How was your break?"

"Fine," Kurt said, slowly. "Why are you so happy?"

Rachel took a step back and Kurt couldn't help cringing at her outfit. She was wearing a chocolate brown sweater, with a white bear silhouette on it. A frilled collar extended from the round neck of her sweater. At the bottom was a knee-length, red and white plaid, tweed skirt. Over this, she wore a see-through raincoat. The hood was up and her perfectly straight, dark hair fell down past her shoulders and stopped with a straight edge. She wore pristine white, knee socks and black, patent leather, shoes with thick straps across them, which closed at the sides with small gold buckles.

Kurt realised then that Rachel had been speaking while he was judging her child-like dress sense.

"Um, what?" Kurt said, shaking his head. "Sorry, I wasn't listening. Your sweater is seriously distracting."

"You like it?" Rachel beamed, looking down at her awful attire. "One of my dads' friends got it for me as a Christmas gift. Apparently, they forgot we don't celebrate Christmas, but it's still cute, right?"

"Rachel," Kurt breathed, still shaking his head. "As your friend, I'm going to advise you to never, ever, ever wear this ever again. In fact, clear out your entire closet and let me take you shopping."

Rachel's face fell. Her dark eyes were wide and she was frowning. "You —you don't like how I dress?"

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.

"Never mind that," Kurt said, changing the subject. "Why were you so excited again?"

Rachel's face lit up once again and she clasped her hands together.

"Okay!" she said, enthusiastically. "I came to school early today, because I wanted to talk to Mr Schue about a list of songs I compiled over the break, that we could choose from for regionals. I have a lot of amazing songs on there, Kurt, I think you'll really like them. I mean, you're a fan of musicals, right? I have a range of songs that covers everything from 'Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat' to 'Wicked'." Rachel was making all kinds of gestures with her hands as she spoke, rather quickly. Kurt could only stare. "I've even got 'Phantom' on there. You like 'Phantom', right, Kurt? I think you could pull off a great Christine, of course, but I think I would be much more of a suitable choice, don't you? I also added the songs of our generation, because I think the judges would appreciate the variety and so, I have some Usher on there, some Rascal Flatts, some Beyonce—"

"Rachel," Kurt said, finally. "Rachel, please stop talking. Is this why you were so excited? Because of a_ list of songs_?"

Rachel looked confused for a split second, then she shook her head. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "No! No, I almost forgot! So, I found Mr Schuester on his way to the teacher's lounge and I told him about my list and he said it was great, that he would look it over and consider some of my choices," she said, looking very proud of herself. "And then he told me that we have two possible new members! Isn't that great? You can never have enough back-up singers, Kurt. Did you know that when Vocal Adrenaline started out—"

"Rachel," Kurt said, trying to bring her back down to earth. "I get it."

"Oh, well," Rachel cleared her throat and brushed her thighs down. "Just thought you'd like to know. I don't know who they are, but it's a promising start to the new year! See you later, Kurt!"

Kurt watched her as she disappeared down the hall, head held high. Maybe Rachel didn't know who the possible new members of New Directions were, but Kurt was definitely aware of the identity of one of them.

* * *

><p>It was the first school day of the new year and Blaine already felt sick. Puck, Karofsky and Azimio were standing by Blaine's locker. A minute later, one of the other guys, Greg, arrived, a cup holder in his hand. In the cup holder, were four red cups, overflowing with slushies of different colours and flavours. Greg held a fifth cup in his other hand.<p>

Blaine watched as Puck, Azimio and Karofsky laughed and leaned across to pull a cup from the holder each. Puck turned to Blaine and his eyes seemed to be urging him to take one, too. Blaine sighed silently, then reached across and took the last cup, the one filled with red, flavoured ice.

"Let's go," Puck grinned.

They began walking down the hall towards Rachel Berry's locker. Azimio had overheard Sam Evans saying that Rachel had called a glee club meeting at 8.45 by her locker. Blaine hadn't gotten a text, except for the one from Kurt who had asked if he was going. Blaine hadn't texted back. He was going all right, but he wasn't going for the same reasons the others were, even if he wished he was.

He saw them, then, all standing there in a large circle, laughing and chatting away. The part that surprised and amused Blaine the most was that they were all dressed in raincoats that came to their ankles, all in different colours and styles. They all had their hoods up, covering their heads. Blaine grinned. This had been Kurt's idea, he was sure of it.

His heart managed to skip a beat when he laid eyes on Kurt for the first time since before Christmas. He looked as perfect as always, his hair inside the hood styled as it usually was, his pale skin smooth and unflawed. His upturned lips were still that same candy pink and his eyes—God, those _eyes—_were still that crazy, cyan blue. As he went closer, Blaine could see the various colours mingled in the centre.

Kurt looked at him and the others turned to look at him, Puck, Azimio, Karofsky and Greg, too. There faces were stern and confident and Blaine couldn't resist the small smile that was dancing on the corners of his lips.

"Happy new year, gay club!" Puck shouted and he threw the contents of his cup in their direction. His slushie attacked Rachel's coat and dripped down the smooth material easily. Some of it landed on Brittany, who simply reached up to run her finger through it, before proceeding to lick it off. Karofsky followed Puck's lead, his slushie ending up over Sam and Finn, the splashes from it colliding with Artie. Azimio's hit Tina, Mike and Mercedes and Greg's hit Rory and Santana and some of it landed on Kurt's protected arm.

The glee club's eyes went to Blaine, then. The others were walking on, laughing and high-fiving one another. Blaine looked at the glee club's expectant faces, then down at the cup in his hand. The ice was floating at the top and looking freezing cold. He raised it up and emptied it on the floor, before walking on, leaving them standing there with their mouths hanging open. Blaine heard them talking as he walked away.

"Did Blaine Anderson just...?"

"I can't believe he did that."

"I think we imagined it. Blaine Anderson would not pass up a chance to slushie us."

"Yet, there lies his strawberry slushie."

"But _why _would he do that?"

"Maybe he's not so bad after all."

* * *

><p>"Hey."<p>

Kurt looked up from his locker and saw Blaine coming towards him, looking as gorgeous as ever. His hair was gelled back, his eyes were shining and golden and as pretty as ever and he was smiling, too. Kurt looked behind him, then back at Blaine.

"Um, why are you talking to me in public?"

Blaine looked confused for a moment, then waved an arm.

"We're still English partners, people won't twig anything," Blaine told him.

"Okay," Kurt said, slowly. "In that case, hey back at you."

Blaine's smile grew and he leaned against the locker two up from Kurt's.

"That stunt with the raincoats this morning?" Blaine said, almost excitedly. "_Genius_."

"Some of my best work, if I do say so myself," Kurt said, grinning.

Blaine laughed and it made his eyes light up. They looked like burning embers, all oranges and browns. Kurt allowed his eyes to drink him in. He looked down at his grey shirt under his letterman jacket. It was tight enough that it defined his chest. Kurt shuddered a little as he remembered what he looked like without it. His jeans were also well-defining. Kurt had to look away when he thought about what Blaine looked like without those, his cheeks burning up almost instantly.

"I think everyone is very surprised after the stunt _you _pulled this morning," Kurt told him. "I was impressed, I must say."

He had felt a strange sense of proudness after Blaine had emptied that slushie over the tiles and not over anyone's head. He helped him reach this point, Blaine was finding himself more and more every single day.

"Yeah," Blaine looked a little uncomfortable, his bright eyes dropping to the ground, his feet shifting.

Kurt smiled affectionately at how adorable Blaine looked when he was feeling shy, or ill at ease. He decided to change the subject, however, because Blaine seemed to be struggling to find a reply.

"So, is Quinn still joining glee?"

Blaine's face fell and he looked tired again. "I haven't seen her yet, today. I'm hoping not."

"Rachel says that Mr Schue told her we may have two new members. I'm assuming she is one of them."

Blaine sighed, sounding frustrated. "Great," he said, not without sarcasm. "She's been going on and on at me because her dad got her the same perfume that I got her for Christmas. I've been avoiding her like the plague. That's a conversation I do not want to have."

Kurt laughed a little. "You got your girlfriend of two years perfume for Christmas?" Kurt asked with some amusement. "Isn't there some sort of relationship rule that says it should be, like, I don't know, jewellery, or something?"

Blaine grimaced and shook his head. "I'm shocked she's not demanding I propose by now, or something."

Kurt frowned a bit at the idea of Blaine and Quinn being engaged—or worse—married.

"I would have totally gotten you something, by the way," Blaine said, quickly, his eyes finding Kurt's. "But I literally had no idea what to get. It was hard enough to come up with something for your birthday.."

Blaine trailed off and Kurt saw his eyes dropping to Kurt's hands. Kurt lifted his sleeve a little, to show him he was still wearing the bracelet. Blaine's smile returned then and his eyes raised to meet Kurt's again.

"Um," Blaine said. "And I didn't know if you even celebrated it so.."

"It's okay," Kurt said. "I didn't get you anything , either, so we're even."

Blaine nodded, looking relieved.

"Actually, we're not even, are we?" Kurt said, thoughtfully. "When's your birthday, anyway?"

Blaine straightened up a little bit. "Actually, what a coincidence. Next week. The 19th," Blaine told him. "My parents insist on me having a party, because 'it wouldn't be fair if I didn't', whatever that means. So, like.." Blaine trailed off and fought for words. "Will you come?"

"To your party," Kurt said, slowly. "Where it will be all those popular kids and me."

"Actually," Blaine stated. "I was thinking the glee club could come."

Kurt gaped at Blaine. He really, really never ceased to amaze him.

"Is this—is this some kind of trap?"

Blaine's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes filled with hurt. "You still think I'd do that to you?" he asked in a whisper.

Kurt sighed and shook his head. "Guess not. Though I don't know what they tell you to do, do I?"

"I'd tell you if it was," Blaine said. "Seriously, I'm supposed to invite my friends. That's what my mom said. 'Tell all your friends to come, honey!'," Blaine imitated. Kurt smiled at his awful impersonation of a female voice. "So, if I'm supposed to tell all my friends to come, you should definitely be there, right?"

Kurt tilted his head sideways and glowered. "Because we're friends?" he said, quietly.

Blaine's eyes narrowed in confusion, then it seemed to dawn on him.

"Oh," he said. "Oh, I didn't—Kurt. I know we're sort of—well. More than just, you know, friends." It was easy to see he was struggling with this statement, but Kurt let him go on, because he needed to know if Blaine really only thought of him as a friend, when for Kurt, Blaine was so much more than just that. "I mean, we—we're—well. It's more than that. It is. I know it is. But you're my friend, too, right? I mean, just because we're..."

Kurt watched as Blaine searched hard for the right words. Kurt's heart was beating quickly as he mentally urged Blaine to go on, to just tell him what he saw their entire relationship as.

"Just because we're in this—this _relationship_," Blaine said and Kurt could deal with that. Relationship was good. He had been expecting him to say 'doing stuff', or 'having sex', or something equally as awful. At least 'relationship' implied feelings. "It doesn't mean we're not friends, too. I promise you it's more than that, though. I just.. I don't know how to say it without feeling like an asshole."

Kurt smiled and Blaine's expression changed to one of relief.

"You'll come?"

"Yeah, I'll come," Kurt told him. "But do you really want me to invite the glee club, or were you just saying that?"

"No," Blaine said. "I meant it and actually, I'll even invite them myself. Impressed?" Blaine smirked, one eyebrow raising.

"Very," Kurt said, smirking back.

"Blaine!" a voice said, behind Kurt. "There you are!"

Kurt knew it was Quinn before he turned around. He couldn't resist rolling his eyes. Quinn walked up, wearing her Cheerios uniform and leaned across to kiss Blaine. Her eyes were on Kurt as she did and Kurt looked away.

"Quinn, what are you—Quinn!" Blaine said, sounding strangled. He took a step back. "We're in the middle of the school halls, are you nuts?"

Quinn simply laughed and then turned to look at Kurt. She looked him from head to toe and then back up again, then turned her gaze back on Blaine.

"What are you doing talking to him?" she asked, as if Kurt wasn't even there.

"Quinn, stop," Blaine sighed. "We're partnered for English, remember? We were discussing our next assignment."

Quinn looked sceptical. "Which is what?"

Kurt cut in, locking his eyes with Quinn's. "It's on Rochester's crazy wife. The one he kept locked in the attic. The assignment is based around how he managed to find and fall in love with Jane, even though he already had a wife."

Kurt saw Blaine's hazel eyes flash with amusement, as he tried to stifle a smile. Quinn narrowed her eyes at Kurt, then turned back to look at Blaine, her high pony swinging around behind her.

"You shouldn't be seen with him, you know," she told him. "It's bad enough that people were thinking it, they don't need to see you talking with him, too!"

"We're just friends—"

"_Friends?" _Quinn exploded and Kurt couldn't deny that his mind had screamed the exact same thing. Since when was Blaine admitting_ that _in public?

Blaine looked panicked for a split second, then he shook his head, calmly. "Why do you make a big deal out of everything?" he sighed. "And you're totally talking about him as if he's not standing there."

Kurt raised an eyebrow at that. Blaine wasn't completely degrading him around his friends—well, his girlfriend, anyway—any more. This was a good sign, a step in the right direction.

"Oh, I'm sorry, what would you like me to do?" Quinn shot back. "Do you want me to do what you're doing? Do you want me to sleep with him? Would that make it all right?"

Kurt's eyes widened and Blaine's mouth hung open. They both spoke at the same time.

"I'm not—"

"We're not—"

"Yeah, Blaine, _I _know that," Quinn said. "But you see all of these people?" She gestured around at the other students walking up and down the halls. "They won't think that. Karofsky has already spread these rumours, seeing you with him will only clarify them."

Blaine opened his mouth to protest, but Quinn had turned away from him. She scowled at Kurt, her eyes darkening.

"You need to stay away from my boyfriend," she stated. "I'm serious. He is not gay! So, you need to stop making eyes at him and kissy faces and trying to get into his pants!"

"Quinn!" Blaine interjected, but she kept going.

"I am seriously warning you... Actually, I don't even know your name—In fact, I don't even _want _to know your name! I just need you to keep your eyes off my boyfriend, okay? You're making him look bad!"

"Don't you mean it's making _you _look bad?" Kurt asked, never dropping his eyes from Quinn's. Quinn looked up at him, questioningly. "I mean, that is what you meant, right? That Blaine doing these out of character things makes you look bad? Isn't that your main worry, Quinn?"

"You don't even know me, faggo—"

"Okay," Blaine interrupted. "Okay, no name calling. Can we just drop this now?"

"Actually, Quinn, I don't have to know you to know what you're like," Kurt said, ignoring Blaine. "I've seen a million girls exactly like you. All you care about is being popular and everything else—and everyone else—can go to hell, just so long as people go on thinking you're perfect, that you have it all, but do you know what, Quinn? I can see past that and if I can see past that, I'm sure a lot of others can, too. So, yes, you can call me a faggot, that's cool, it's nice that you express your homophobia for all to hear, even though you're supposed to be the perfect girl, but I want you to do something, okay?"

"Kurt, I don't—"

"I want you to go home and open up your computer," Kurt went on as if Blaine hadn't spoken. "Go on Google, because I doubt you actually know how to use a dictionary, let alone own one, I want you to type 'faggot definition' into the search bar. And just in case you don't do it, I'll tell you what you would get. Google will tell you that faggot is a male homosexual. It will also tell you it's _offensive. _But see the thing is, Quinn, I actually _am _a male homosexual, but if I type in the word 'perfect' and look for a definition, it will give me something like 'unflawed', or 'as good as it is possible to be', but you're neither of those, are you? No, because none of us are perfect and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll be able to actually be happy in your life.

"Right now, you're desperate, I can see that. You're desperate to be perceived as this perfect, unflawed girl and you'll do anything to make that happen, which is kind of scary, isn't it? That you'll go to any lengths to achieve that? Even if it means your boyfriend is going to be miserable in the process. I know what it's like to want something so bad that you're willing to do anything," Kurt said, with a glance at Blaine. "But there has to be a line you stop at, a line you just don't cross. Otherwise, you'll do something that you'll never be able to go back on and that's when you'll be sorry."

Both Quinn and Blaine were staring at him with their eyes wide and their lips apart. Kurt hoped Blaine would take that in, too, that he would think about it again later.

"What about him?" Quinn asked, pointing at Blaine behind her. "Do you have some kind of—of crazy, made-up theory about him, too?"

Kurt looked at Blaine and frowned a little. "He knows exactly what he needs to do," Kurt said, locking his eyes with Blaine's, which were filled with surprise and shock. "But unlike you, Quinn, he's working at it."

Quinn scowled back at Blaine, who just continued to look at Kurt. She looked back at Kurt when she saw Blaine wasn't going to say anything.

"Stay away from my boyfriend!"

"Well, maybe if your boyfriend didn't keep..." Kurt trailed off, because Blaine's eyes widened further and he got this look of sheer panic on his face and Kurt had to ground himself, because telling Quinn about himself and Blaine would be wrong on so many levels. For one, it wasn't his place. Secondly, Blaine wasn't ready for that and as much as Quinn annoyed Kurt, as much as he felt like screaming at her that she knew nothing about Blaine, he couldn't do that to him. "Oh, it doesn't matter! See you in English, Blaine." Kurt slammed his locker shut with a loud crash and Blaine flinched.

Kurt began to walk away, but he turned back and looked at Quinn, feeling the need to get one last stab in. It was petty and childish, but he couldn't bring himself to be mature right now. "By the way, Quinn," he began. "Your roots are showing."

He smiled, taking pleasure in Quinn's appalled expression, then turned around and continued on down the hall.

Kurt Hummel-1, Quinn Fabray-0.

* * *

><p>"Your girlfriend's a bitch."<p>

"I am aware," Blaine said into his phone. "I'm sorry about everything she said to you."

"Not your fault," Kurt told him.

Blaine sighed and closed his book, then stood up and walked towards his bed. He lay down and switched the phone to his other ear.

"Everything you said to her was pretty accurate," he said. Blaine couldn't help thinking about what Kurt had said to Quinn. Quinn would go to any lengths to achieve the ultimate popularity status. She was pretty ruthless and a bit crazy.

"I know," Kurt responded. "Glee club tomorrow should be interesting."

Blaine groaned. He really didn't want Quinn to join glee. It was the one place he could actually enjoy himself without having to worry about her being intent on watching his every move.

"I wish there was a way of convincing her not to join," he sighed.

"Well, I guess you could tell her you're having sex with me, because I think that would probably make her change her mind," Kurt said and Blaine could hear the amusement in his voice. "But of course, that's not an option."

Blaine wished it was. Earlier that day he had wanted to tell her that, especially when she had talked down to Kurt. When Kurt had almost told her, Blaine chickened out, as he so often did in dire situations.

"Praying she can't sing," Blaine muttered.

"I didn't know you believed in God," Kurt said.

"Being with Quinn, you have to believe in something," Blaine informed him. "Otherwise, you would probably go nuts."

"Good point."

"So, when can we see each other?" Blaine asked, boldly. He didn't care. All he could think about was kissing Kurt, holding Kurt, being with Kurt. He needed to know.

"We saw each other in school about six hours ago," Kurt said and Blaine could hear him smiling knowingly.

"You know what I mean," Blaine urged.

"I do," Kurt chuckled. "Whenever you're free, I guess."

"As if I will ever be completely free," Blaine sighed again, realising it was true. He would never be truly free. He guessed he could be, but there were so many consequences and quid pro quos that he couldn't even consider it.

"Some day, Blaine," Kurt said and Blaine could hear the smile in his voice. "Some day you will be, but I thought we were talking about sex. How did the topic change to something so intense and profound?"

Blaine spluttered a little bit.

"Are you insinuating that sex with me is not intense and profound?"

"Not in the least," Kurt apprised him, instantly.

"Good," Blaine said. "Because I plan on having lots of it."

* * *

><p>"Did Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman really just sing Islands in the Stream?" Mercedes said, looking as dazed as Kurt felt.<p>

"Yes," Kurt said, then turned to look at Blaine behind him. "You really need to reconsider the people you call your friends, Blaine."

"Stop talking, I'm trying to process what just happened."

Kurt turned away because he knew how he felt. It had been the single, most awkward performance Kurt had ever witnessed. Quinn and Puck had walked in, grinning. Puck had his guitar and people started to object to them being in the club, but Mr Schue said they deserved a chance and so, they had auditioned with Islands in the Stream and Quinn Fabray and Noah Puckerman were no Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers. They were both mildly talented, Puck a little more than Quinn, but maybe Kurt was biased, but it had been strange and really, really awkward to watch.

Nobody had clapped afterwards, not even Mr Schuester. He had said it was a good song, but beyond that he looked as dazed and confused as everyone else. The part that made it as crazy as it was, was that this was Quinn and Puck, two of the most popular kids at school, besides Blaine. The entire thing had been so far out there, it needed foreign travel vaccines.

Puck and Quinn had left early, because nobody had really treated them with any kindness, but they said they'd be back for the next session.

"I don't think we should let them join," Rachel stated and for once, Kurt had to agree with her. "While they can sing a little, they're both far too used to being in the limelight to be willing to step back."

"Anderson seems to be doing fine," Santana pointed out.

"Why would Puck join glee?" Blaine whispered behind Kurt. He appeared to be speaking mostly to himself so Kurt ignored him.

"Rachel, everyone who auditions gets in, remember?" Mr Schue said. "Now next time, we're going to be more welcoming, even if that was a little weird."

"That's a major understatement," Mercedes laughed.

Kurt agreed. "Understatement of the century."

"Um, okay," Mr Schue said, then. "I think we're done for today. See you all on Thursday."

Kurt stood up and got his things and headed for the door. Everyone headed for the exit doors and then went in separate directions. Blaine followed Kurt to his car.

"What are you—"

"You remember last night when I said I planned on us having lots and lots of sex?"

Kurt took a step back, stunned. It was one thing for Blaine to say it over the phone, but in person was a whole other story.

"Um, vaguely," he lied.

"Well, that starts now, if it's all right with you," Blaine told him. "I never want to hear Islands in the Stream ever again for the rest of my existence," he muttered. "There's no one at my house, my parents went to visit my uncle this morning. You up for it?"

"You just want to sleep with me because you want me to take your mind off the fact that your girlfriend is a psychopath and your best friend is a douche?" Kurt enquired.

Blaine blinked a couple of times, those long dark lashes fluttering lightly.

"No," he said, matter-of-factly. "I want to sleep with you because it's been twenty one days since we last did it and your pants are really tight and I'm a teenage boy with carnal urges and you look really good today. Like, so good."

Kurt was a little taken aback by Blaine's sudden blunt manner, but he didn't deem it unwelcome. He smiled, then, mischievously.

"I don't think I feel like it," Kurt told him. "My mind is permanently scarred from the performance I just witnessed."

"Oh, get in the car, Hummel," Blaine said, smiling a little.

* * *

><p>"Blaine!" Quinn said, following him across the school parking lot. Blaine couldn't look at her without flashbacks of that awful rendition of Islands in the Stream flooding his mind. "Blaine, we need to talk!"<p>

Blaine slowed down and waited for her to catch up. When she did, she reached out and clutched his arm.

"I mean, we need to talk, like, privately."

"Look, Quinn, if this is about me not clapping after your glee audition, I had good reason. In my defense, that audition sucke—"

"_Blaine_," she said, gravely, looking up at him with worrying eyes. "I'm pregnant."

Blaine felt as if he was falling. His knees felt weak and he felt light-headed, as if he might hit the ground. It was as if every one of his worst nightmares were coming true simultaneously.

"You—you're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" she snapped.

Blaine shook his head. "You couldn't—we were careful, we—"

"Blaine, stop babbling," Quinn sighed, with frustration. "I'm like 110% sure. We're having a baby."

Blaine stared at her, his skin felt cold and his heart was doing somersaults in his chest. He couldn't have a baby with Quinn. They didn't even like each other. This was the worst day of his life, it was official.

"Oh, you know what, Blaine?" Quinn said, angrily. "If you're just going to stand there looking like a lost dog, I'm just going to go to class and you can find me later."

"Okay," he said, simply.

Quinn grunted her displeasure and stormed off into the building. Blaine stood there in a daze for at least five minutes, then walked quickly into the school, body shaking violently. He was experiencing so many feelings now that he couldn't put a name to, but they were all bad, every one of them. There was only one thing he could thing to do that would help him get his head together.

He had to find Kurt.

* * *

><p><strong>I keep leaving off on really horrible endings and I'm sorry, I really am. Now I have Islands in the Stream stuck in my head. I'm sure some of you saw that last part coming. It was inevitable, really, but if you were surprised, then yay, because I was trying to go for the shock factor. I just have to stick in some canon elements now and again, because they just fit. Anyway, yeah, I'll stop talking. Let me know what you think :) Update *probably* tomorrow :)<strong>


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, that seemed to take a long time to write! I own nothing. I added those song lyrics at the start, simply because I had the song on repeat all the way through writing this and it did fit. It's called Right Back in the Water and I'll add it to my profile :)(Casually read 'her' and 'she' as 'his' and 'he' in the lyrics)**

* * *

><p><em>Just the notion of saying goodbye,<br>__It breaks my heart, it tears me up inside,  
><em>_And I try to walk away, but I keep telling myself she's the one for me,  
><em>_'Cause her love is so contagious it keeps pulling me in,  
><em>_We were meant to be and I can't leave her._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17:<strong>

"I need to talk to you."

Kurt heard the panic in his voice before he had even turned around to look at him. When he did turn around, he saw that not only did Blaine sound like he was in distress, he looked it, too. His eyes were filled with worry and concern and his breathing was laboured.

"What? What is it?" Kurt asked.

"I just.." Blaine's eyes darted around the crowded halls. "Can we go some place else?"

"Blaine, class starts in—"

"Kurt," Blaine said and he reached out and placed a hand on both of Kurt's shoulders. He looked right into his eyes and spoke, voice breaking. "You said you would always be someone I could come to. I'm coming to you now. I know I don't deserve your kindness, or your friendship, or just _you _in general, but I need you, Kurt. _Please._"

Kurt studied him. He looked as if it was the end of the world, like part of him had broken.

"Okay," Kurt nodded.

* * *

><p>They were in Kurt's room and Blaine was pacing back and forth. Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him. He was whispering to himself, frantically, too quietly for Kurt to be able to make out what he was saying. It didn't look as if he was blinking, either, his bright eyes wide and dilated. Kurt sighed.<p>

"Blaine," he said. "Blaine, sit down. I didn't skip school so that you could parade back and forth looking pretty in my room."

Blaine didn't respond, he simply kept on pacing, as if Kurt hadn't even spoken. Kurt groaned and stood up. He went to Blaine and grabbed him by the shoulders, then pushed him to sit on the bed. Blaine was looking up at him, a stunned expression on his face. Kurt wondered if he should slap him, or throw water over him, but instead, he just sat down next to him.

"Okay, breathe and tell me what's wrong."

Kurt waited, while Blaine took slow, deep breaths. He kept raising his hands to his head, like the end was near. Finally, he met Kurt's eyes and opened his mouth to speak.

"Quinn's pregnant," he said, very quietly.

Kurt's heart stilled in his chest and then it seemed to plummet down to somewhere around his ankles and then back up again. He stared at Blaine for a few seconds.

"She's.. Seriously?"

Blaine nodded, just nodded.

"Well, this can't go well," Kurt muttered. He couldn't really explain what he was feeling. The only word that came to mind was shock, but that was a huge understatement, an even bigger understatement than Quinn and Puck's performance of Islands in the Stream being weird. His mind was flooded with these thoughts that said he had to face reality, that this was over, that it couldn't and wouldn't go on, that Blaine had a responsibility and he couldn't expect him to go on with their relationship and how long did he think it was going to last anyway?

"I can't.. Kurt, I can't have a baby," Blaine said, sounding dazed.

Kurt felt like pointing out that he didn't really have much of a choice, but he thought that would be a little insensitive, so he didn't. Instead, he reached out and laid a hand on Blaine's shoulder, hoping it came across as a supportive gesture.

"Does she know what she wants to do?"

Blaine looked up and shrugged, looking helpless.

"I only spoke to her for about two minutes. She told me, then when I didn't react in the way she'd expected me to, she stormed off and then I went to find you."

Kurt wondered if Quinn had expected Blaine to do a celebration dance on hearing the news. He really disliked that girl, even more so now.

"I mean, I've known for a long time that I would end up stuck with her forever, probably, but.." Blaine trailed off, shaking his head. "I guess I didn't ever really and truly believe it, you know?"

"This isn't the Stone Age, Blaine," Kurt said, though he knew using the Stone Age as an example was inaccurate, but thinking was difficult right now. "Getting a girl pregnant doesn't necessarily mean you're tied to her forever."

"You obviously haven't met my dad," Blaine said.

"I don't think I'd want to meet him, anyway," Kurt muttered. "You know, you should probably talk to her, find out the details. Things might not be as.."

_Things might not be as bad as they seem, _he'd been going to say, but stopped, because things were pretty bad.

"Okay, look," Kurt began, with a sigh. "You need to consider everything here, okay? For one, you have to take responsibility for this kid. Secondly, you don't have to stay with her, you know? I mean, if you don't want to be with her, that's your own decision. You're eighteen soon, you're an adult, you make your own decisions. If your dad doesn't like it, that's his problem. He's not the one who has to spend the rest of his life tied to someone like Quinn. And above all of that, Blaine, we—me and you—we need to stop this entire thing."

Blaine looked up then, his eyes wide. He looked as if that hadn't crossed his mind yet. Kurt watched as he stood up and crossed the room, breathing heavily.

"I can't," Blaine uttered.

"Well, you have to," Kurt told him. "You can't go and commit to having a kid with your girlfriend and still meet me in fields for sex."

"No," Blaine said, adamantly. "I know. I know, I can't. But I can't.. Kurt. I can't not be with you."

"Blaine—"

"How can you be so calm about it?" Blaine demanded. "How can you just tell me we can't do this any more with just a shrug, like it's nothing to you?"

Kurt shut his eyes tight. He didn't know how else to say it, because he didn't like being the pity party, didn't want Blaine to know how badly it hurt. In reality, he felt as if his heart was ripping into millions of pieces.

"We'll still talk and all that, if you want," Kurt shrugged, ignoring the question.

"You feel nothing?"

"Blaine," Kurt sighed again. "How long did you think this could go on?"

Kurt had asked himself the same question and couldn't come up with an answer. He didn't know, he just knew that he didn't want to stop. He didn't want to be away from Blaine.

"I don't know!" Blaine said, sounding a little hysterical. "I don't know anything! I let everything build up and it's all back fired."

"Blaine—"

"I know how wrong it is, Kurt, I know, okay?" Blaine went on. "I know that it's selfish and wrong, but I can't lose you! I don't know how!"

"Blaine, calm dow—"

"I can't calm down!" Blaine said, loudly. "How can I calm down when you clearly don't care?"

Kurt's frustration rose like mercury in a thermometer held next to a fire. He jumped to his feet and looked at Blaine, right at him, into those copper penny eyes.

"_I don't care?_" he said, voice high pitched. "All I've been doing is caring! In fact, Blaine, I think I'm probably the only person in your lie of a life that gives a damn! Don't tell me I don't care, when I've been the only one fucking caring from day one!"

"Well, you don't act like you care!" Blaine retorted. "You're standing there telling me it's over, like the closing credits of a movie are rolling! _I know _that it's over, okay? I can see the stupid credits! You don't have to state the God damned obvious! _I know! _But unlike you, I clearly have a bigger problem with that happening, with this ending. So, what was it, Kurt? Was this just all one big joke? You decided you'd just sleep with me and tell me you'd be here for me, just for the fun of it? Because that's how it looks. It _looks _like you have absolutely no problem with this being over."

Kurt laughed, cruelly. "Are you serious?" he shouted. "_You_ have a bigger problem with this being over? Really? You make it sound as if I'm not emotionally attached to this-this-whatever this is! Like I'm the one who's afraid to admit that I like another guy! Like I'm kissing you and giving you bracelets and texting you and then going back to my girlfriend and slushying you in the school hallways! Maybe you should sit down and rethink that, Blaine, because I'm pretty sure that was all you!"

"If you're so 'emotionally attached'," Blaine said, forming air quotes with his fingers. "Then why are you so laid back about this? Why are you acting as if I'm just another name you can cross off a list of people you've slept with?"

"I haven't slept with anyone but you and you know that," Kurt pointed out. "You on the other hand—"

"Don't even tell me there hasn't been anyone else," Blaine shook his head. "I'm not saying you lied about being a virgin, but as if you went to an all-boys school and none of them wanted to touch you. Who in their right mind wouldn't want to? Don't make out like I've been with more than one person and you haven't."

Kurt took a deep breath and then groaned with frustration. Blaine was going to send him to an early grave.

"Do you want to know about the one other guy that you speak of, Blaine?" Kurt asked. "Do you want to know what it's like to be with someone who just wants you for sex? Oh, wait, apparently you already know what that's like, since I've been using you for all this sex. Like I'm the one who got drunk and stuck my hand down your pants."

Kurt hadn't told Blaine about Evan, the last guy he'd been with—the only other guy he'd ever been with. He didn't class him as a boyfriend, because they never actually dated. It mostly consisted of them ending up in one another's room and then Evan trying to get Kurt's jeans off. It hadn't ended well and Kurt hadn't ever told anyone about it.

"Well," Blaine said, looking a little defeated. "That doesn't explain why you claim to be so attached to this—us—yet you stand there looking like ending it will have no impact on your life at all."

"No impact on _my _life?" Kurt asked. "Blaine, do you know what it's like to have someone act like they like you, like they want you and they do all these things with you, to you, for you, yet you never know how they feel, because they never tell you? Do you know what that's like for me? Do you know how frustrating and confusing that is? To want someone so bad, someone you can never truly have, but you keep on letting things happen, because it means you still get to be close to them? Now you know what it's like for me, but me? I have no idea how you feel? Want to know why? Because you never fucking tell me without it coming out of your mouth as some sort of cryptic, mysterious riddle that I can't understand!"

Blaine crossed the room quickly and Kurt thought he was going to leave. He wouldn't follow him, he would let him walk right on out of his room, out of his life. But Blaine didn't leave, he stopped right in front of Kurt and looked right at him.

"You want to know how I feel?" Blaine said. "I'll tell you exactly how I feel! I'll tell you exactly why I can't understand you being so perfectly fine with this being over! I'll tell you why it hurts that you seem to feel nothing! I'll tell you why I know this has to end, but I can't let go so easily! It's because I love you, okay?" Blaine shouted. "_I love you_ and it terrifies me both that I love you and that you might not love me back. Are you happy now? Did I help you understand how I feel, Kurt?"

Kurt stared at him, mouth hanging open. His heart was racing in his chest and his skin was shivering all over. This simply could not be happening. Blaine couldn't love him now, when it all had to come to an end. It wasn't possible, it wasn't fair.

"No," Kurt shook his head. "No, no. You don't. You don't love me."

"Yes, I do!" Blaine told him. "I do. I love you and I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry that it's like this, but I love you and there's nothing I can do about that." Blaine's face fell and he looked like he might cry, but he didn't. He simply moved forward and pressed his mouth down over Kurt's. "I'm sorry," he whispered against his lips. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

* * *

><p>Blaine's fingers were fumbling with the small buttons on Kurt's shirt. His heart was hammering away against his ribcage and he was breathing heavily into Kurt's mouth. He could feel Kurt's heart beating hard and fast beneath his touch as his fingers continued to push the small, white buttons out through the little loop holes.<p>

Finally, he had it completely unbuttoned. He pushed it down past Kurt's arms and flung it off to the side. It landed in a pile on the floor. Blaine bent to kiss Kurt again, his hands finding Kurt's chest, his fingers following the contours of his skin. He knew he shouldn't do this, not with everything that was going on, but he couldn't bring himself to care right now. All he wanted was Kurt, even if it would be their last time ever, which he was not happy about, he just wanted to be with him, wanted to be close to him, wanted to feel his heart beating against his chest, just once more.

Kurt's hands were pushing Blaine's jacket off. He moved back a little, to allow him room to push it away and within seconds, it was on the floor next to Kurt's shirt. Before Blaine could breathe, Kurt was tugging him back on top of him, crashing his mouth against his hungrily. Every other time they'd had sex, it hadn't been like this. It had been calm, careful, their movements very contrived, but now, it was hungry, frantic, they were clinging to one another like tomorrow was their final day.

"Will you stop saying you're sorry?" Kurt muttered against his lips and Blaine hadn't realised he was still apologising out loud. He didn't get a chance to reply, because Kurt's hands were pushing his shirt up his chest and then he was tugging it up over his arms and over his head and then they were both topless.

Blaine made a small sound when he felt Kurt tugging him back down, their bare skin touching. He wanted him more than he could bring himself to admit, even now after having confessed to loving him. He did love him, he couldn't deny that to himself any more.

Blaine's hands flitted lower until they found the top button on Kurt's tight pants. He went to work on that, while Kurt's lips found his neck, his kisses soft, but still sloppy and fast. Kurt's mouth found Blaine's pulse and he placed small kisses there for a long time, before sucking his skin into his mouth. Blaine groaned and began pushing Kurt's pants south. Finally, he kicked them off of Kurt's body, leaving him in just his briefs, his porcelain skin almost translucent beneath Blaine.

He could only look at him for a second, because Kurt's mouth found his again and he gasped against his lips when Kurt's hands had moved lower and found the crotch of his jeans. He moaned when Kurt's fingers squeezed his erection through his jeans, before unzipping him. Blaine hummed in relief when Kurt had the zipper all the way down. His cock was still straining against his underwear, but at least the hard material of his jeans was gone.

Blaine wasted no time, he hooked his fingers into the top of Kurt's underwear and tugged them down, freeing his hard-on. This time, he sat back a little, to look at him in the light of the day. He had never really properly just looked at Kurt. He was the most flawless thing he had ever seen in his life. Kurt blushed while Blaine watched him, the skin around his neck and in his cheeks flushing a bright pink.

"You're beautiful," Blaine whispered. He figured he had nothing left to lose now, he could just say these things, he didn't care now, Kurt already knew. He didn't wait for Kurt to reply, he simply bent down again and covered Kurt's swelled mouth with his own, their tongues falling together and finding a steady rhythm.

Blaine pushed his hand downwards and wrapped his fingers around Kurt's cock, sending a low moan from his mouth. They were still kissing like it was the end of the world and then Kurt was pushing Blaine's boxers off and within seconds, they were both completely naked and pressed against one another.

Blaine's hand let Kurt's cock go and Kurt moaned at the loss. He moved his hand lower again, his fingers finding Kurt's opening.

"_Oh,_" Kurt breathed, when Blaine rubbed a finger over his tight hole. Blaine loved the noises Kurt made when he had his fingers inside him, he could have listened to him all day, just knowing he was doing that to him. He lifted his fingers to Kurt's mouth and Kurt sucked on them.

"Fuck," Blaine uttered. He had never seen anything like this. Kurt was literally the hottest thing he had ever seen.

He pulled his fingers out and Kurt let go with a small popping sound, then Blaine lowered his hand to find Kurt's entrance again. He lowered his mouth to kiss Kurt as he pressed a finger to his asshole and worked it in slowly. Kurt pulled his mouth off of Blaine's in an instant and cried out, his head flinging backwards.

Blaine extended his finger slowly, then pushed it back in and Kurt made the same sound again. After a few more pushed, Kurt was moving, pushing himself down over Blaine's fingers and Blaine could have come, simply from watching him. But he didn't want to come yet, he wanted more, wanted to take his time, because this was probably going to be their last time.

Blaine pulled his finger out and Kurt tried to push himself down over it again, but Blaine's hand was gone. Kurt whined, but Blaine caught the sound with his mouth and instead, used his hand to pump back and forth along the base of Kurt's dick. Kurt's hand came down to Blaine's erection and his fingers danced gently along the underside, until they found his balls. Kurt's touch against his sensitive skin made him cry out against his mouth and God, he was perfect.

"Side table drawer," Kurt said, voice thick and uneven.

"What?" Blaine breathed, his hand moving faster along Kurt's cock, sending small moans from his mouth. Kurt's hand had moved up to close around Blaine's cock and Blaine wasn't going to last long at this rate.

"Side table drawer, Blaine," Kurt emphasised.

"Oh," Blaine said, realising. "Not yet."

He let go of Kurt and began moving lower until his head was in line with Kurt's hard-on, which was already shining with pre-come at the head. Blaine cursed at the sight, before flicking his tongue over it. Kurt was making small guttural sounds and Blaine moved so that his head was angled in a way that he could just slide his mouth down over Kurt's cock.

"God, Blaine," Kurt said, when Blaine began to suck up and down, his lips stretched around him. Blaine remembered the first night he had done this, how afterwards, he had wanted more than anything for it to go away, for Kurt to just disappear out of his life. Now, all he wanted was to have Kurt forever and he could never have that.

Kurt's hand were in his hair, tugging lightly on the curls which had escaped the gel. He continued to suck on Kurt, until Kurt's fingers tugged hard on his hair and he kept on pulling until Blaine had moved his mouth off entirely.

"What?" Blaine asked, breathlessly. "What's wrong?"

"Not gonna l-last if you keep d-doing th-that," Kurt told him.

He knew how he felt. Blaine glanced down at his own cock against his stomach. His insides were knotting and he just wanted more, wanted all of Kurt. He kissed him again and their pace hadn't slowed at all. There was a want, a yearning as they crashed their tongues together. Blaine tore his mouth off Kurt's then and looked right into those sea-blue, shining eyes.

"I want you inside me," he said and Kurt seemed to choke.

"You-you—oh. Okay," Kurt said, sounding flustered.

Blaine had never been so blunt about what he wanted when it came to intimacy with Kurt, with anyone actually. Now, he just wanted to feel close to him, to have him in every possible way, because he couldn't have him in the way he wanted, the way that mattered most. He couldn't have him to call his own.

"Side table drawer," Kurt told him again.

"Okay," Blaine said and leaned across to the drawer. He pulled it open and reached inside for the small bottle of lube. He handed it to Kurt.

"The condoms are—"

"Can we not?" Blaine asked, blushing. "I just—I just want to—to _feel _you."

Kurt stared up at him for a couple of heartbeats and Blaine couldn't read anything from his expression. Then he nodded.

"I—Okay."

"You don't have to if you're uncomfortable with tha—"

"No," Kurt shook his head, his fingers tracing patterns over Blaine's thigh, sending small shivers all along his skin. "No, I want to."

Blaine nodded and Kurt sat up. He pushed Blaine back against the pillows and kissed him again, as he opened the cap on the bottle of lube with a snapping sound. Blaine heart was beating hard as he felt Kurt shifting his leg into a position that allowed his easy access to his opening. He hadn't bottomed since their first time, but for some reason he was more nervous now about it than he had been then.

Kurt pressed a single kiss to Blaine's lips, then sat back on his knees and pressed on the bottle of lube until the cool liquid was in the palm of his hand. Blaine swallowed hard.

"Are you all right?" Kurt asked, looking down at him with a concerned look in his eyes.

"Yes," Blaine said. "Yes, just—I'm fine. Do it."

Kurt nodded and then spread some of the lube over his first finger. Blaine had to look away, because he was going to come. He gasped at the first touch of Kurt's cool finger against his opening. It flicked over it once, then twice, then began pressing against his tight hole. He continued to press against it, until the tip of his finger slid in easily. Blaine arched his hips and Kurt pushed them back down with the hand that didn't have its finger inside him.

Kurt pushed his finger all the way in, slowly, then moved it back out and Blaine was breathing faster now. He watched as Kurt spread lube over a second finger and then went to work at stretching him open enough to fit in both. Soon, he was covering his a third finger with the sticky liquid and then he was moving to fit three inside him.

Blaine's ankles were thrashing a little and Kurt pressed a hand back to hold one still.

"Relax," he whispered, as he pushed in and out of him with his fingers, now moving freely. Blaine groaned every time Kurt's fingers hit that spot and God, he was so, so close. He watched as Kurt began to pump back and forth on his own cock, with the hand that had the pool of lube in its palm. Blaine moaned when he saw Kurt's cock, now shining with the lube.

"Still okay?" Kurt asked, as he pushed himself back on his knees.

"More than okay," Blaine told him, truthfully.

Kurt moved his legs up and Blaine took a deep breath as Kurt lined himself up with his opening. He pressed the head of his cock against Blaine's hole then began to push slowly in and Blaine's eyes fluttered closed, his head pushing back hard against the pillows.

"God," Kurt breathed, pausing with just the head of his cock buried inside Blaine. "How can you still be this tight?"

Blaine couldn't reply, couldn't form coherent words. He watched as Kurt took another few long inhales, his pale chest rising and falling quickly, then he pushed slowly forward again, past the second ring of muscle inside Blaine. This time, he didn't pause to give him time to adjust, he simply kept on inching further in, until he was buried all the way inside.

"Jesus," Blaine managed to choke out, his hard cock still pressing against his stomach.

Kurt moved down to catch Blaine's mouth with his own, which meant his body shifted a little, which in turn, caused his cock to slide backwards a little inside Blaine. Blaine moaned into Kurt's kiss and then Kurt's hand was reaching down to entwine his fingers around his cock. Blaine's stomach tightened at his touch. He was going to come very soon.

Kurt continued to kiss him and pump away at his erection and then he was retracting his hips and then immersing himself back inside and Blaine was crying out against his lips. He wrapped his legs around his waist and Kurt was still kissing him, lazily and his hips were moving back and forth at a more rapid pace now, his cock hitting Blaine's spot every time he plunged himself forward. Soon, Blaine was moving his hips in a rhythm with Kurt's so that he was meeting Kurt every time he moved back in.

Kurt's hand was still moving back and forth on Blaine's cock between them and Blaine had never felt as close to anyone in his entire life. He could feel Kurt's heart thumping against his chest and Kurt's chest was rising and falling as quickly as his own. He felt hot and cold and dizzy and happy and he just never wanted to let this boy go.

Blaine moaned high and long when he came, his come hitting Kurt's chest and his own, leaving pearly streaks on their skin. He closed his eyes as Kurt's hand continued to pump on his dick until he had come completely, pleasure still racking his body from the feeling of Kurt's cock moving in and out inside of him. Kurt moved back again to make it easier to move. He clutched Blaine's hips and began to push in and out harder and faster and Blaine knew he was going to come, he knew he was close, because his thrusts were more erratic and his head was thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open.

Small sounds escaped his throat and Blaine couldn't take his eyes off him. He was perfect, so, so perfect and Blaine just had to tell him that, he would make sure to tell him later, because he needed to know. He needed to know that he was perfect and that there was no one else like him and that there never, ever would be, at least not for Blaine.

Soon, Kurt was coming inside Blaine and they were both crying out. Blaine reached up and tugged Kurt back town to kiss him and Kurt continued to move in and out, riding out the orgasm, before collapsing on top of Blaine and kissing him senseless.

"I can't—I can't lose you," Blaine whispered into his mouth.

"We don't have a choice, Blaine," Kurt told him and Blaine could see the sadness in his cyan eyes. "We just don't have a choice."

* * *

><p>Kurt had never seen Blaine like this in all the times they had been together. Never had he ever lay with his head rested on Kurt's chest, one arm curled around his waist, the other tracing invisible designs over his arm with his fingers. Not that Kurt was complaining. They wouldn't be able to do anything like this ever again, it was sort of a final day for them, they would enjoy it.<p>

Kurt was stroking Blaine's hair back absently, as they just stared at one another in complete silence. He could feel Blaine's warm breath on his chest, near his heart and Kurt couldn't tell if he wanted to cry or scream. Maybe both.

They were both sweaty and Kurt had wiped them off with a shirt, but they were still sticky and disgusting. He could feel his skin cooling off from the cool air that was sifting through the small slit of his open window.

Blaine's eyes were sad and tired looking. Neither of them had spoken in at least fifteen minutes. Kurt decided he should break the silence, because they would have to at some point.

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Terrified," Blaine told him.

"What of?"

"What of?" Blaine asked. "Um, everything."

Kurt shook his head, his fingers still smoothening over Blaine's dark hair. "I mean—well. You can still talk to me, you know? I told you once that I'll always be someone you can come to, no matter the situation. I meant it. So, talk to me. What are you thinking?"

Blaine sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again.

"I figure that being stuck with Quinn for possibly the rest of my life is something I'll have to accept, you know? I know you said having a—a baby doesn't mean we have to, like, get married, or whatever, but it sort of does. I mean, not right now, but eventually. Because Quinn's parents are just like my parents. Everything has to be a certain way, or it's wrong, there's no question about it. So, I'll accept that, you know? I mean, I won't be happy about it, but that's just how it has to go, but the thing that gets me most—aside from, you know, not being able to kiss you whenever the fuck I want to—what gets me most is the idea of a baby."

"Don't think you're cut out to be a daddy?" Kurt asked, smiling sadly. God, he just really hated Quinn. He sort of felt sorry for her, because babies weren't an easy fete, but he mostly just hated her for how she had managed to trap Blaine for good.

"Not now, anyway," Blaine said. "I hadn't ever really given it much thought. But.."

Blaine trailed off and began chewing on his bottom lip. His eyes dropped and he was taking long inhales.

"What?" Kurt asked, softly, using his fingers to tilt Blaine's head back to face him.

Blaine was silent for a moment, then he exhaled and looked into Kurt's eyes.

"I'm scared I'm going to turn out like my dad."

"Blaine, you're nothing like your—"

"You've never even met him," Blaine pointed out.

"Yeah, but I've seen what he's capable of, remember?" Kurt reminded him. "And I know you, Blaine. You're not like that. Beneath this shield you've put up around you, you're a good person—a really good person. You don't deserve anything that's happening to you, Blaine."

"I never deserved you," Blaine said, looking up at him. "That's why I don't get to have you."

"That and the fact that you're not gay, right?" Kurt smirked.

Blaine sighed, tiredly. "I don't know."

Kurt didn't say anything, because there wasn't really any point now.

"Do you remember that day in the bathroom? When you told me I would wind up with Quinn and that I'd end up cheating on her with some guy I met at my kid's football game?"

"Oh, wow," Kurt said. He had forgotten about that. "That's pretty uncanny."

"Yeah," Blaine said. "Why are you always so right?"

"I wish I wasn't," Kurt told him. "At least about this."

"If you are," Blaine said. "I hope you're at my kid's football game, Kurt. In fact, you should come to all of them just to heighten the chances."

Kurt chuckled and Blaine smiled slightly. They didn't say anything for a little while, then, just listened to the sound of the other breathing.

"You know earlier when I said all that stuff? When I said you were just in this for the—the sex and when I called you out on the whole previous relationships thing," Blaine said. "I didn't mean any of that. I know you weren't just in this for that reason. This—us—it was never just about sex. Not for me, either. It was always more, even if I was never able to admit that. And the whole past boyfriends thing, I—that was just me being stupid and angry and jealous, I guess."

"Jealous?" Kurt asked with intrigue. "You're jealous of my one past relationship? In fact, I don't even class that as a relationship. You have no reason to be jealous."

"What'd he do?" Blaine asked and Kurt thought he sounded sort of defensive about it.

"Nothing, really," Kurt shrugged. "He spent large amounts of his time trying to take my pants off, but never really succeeded. Well. Maybe he got them off once, but we never—I wasn't lying when I said I was a virgin."

"I know," Blaine nodded against Kurt's chest. "Did that end badly? You know, the thing with the other guy?"

"I guess," Kurt said, thoughtfully. "Most things in my life seem to end badly."

Blaine frowned and pressed the lightest of kisses to Kurt's chest.

"I'm sorry, Kurt."

"You said that about six million times already," Kurt smiled. "But it's okay. I guess you can't be solely blamed for this. I could have said no at any time, I just didn't really want to."

Kurt wanted to ask him if he had meant it when he said he loved him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, because if Blaine said yes, that he meant it, it would only make the entire thing more painful. Blaine had been a mess when he had said he loved him. It had probably been a mistake, a slip up, something said on a whim. He had to believe that, because believing that made thing easier.

"Will you still come to my party?"

"You're still having it?"

"I can't tell my parents, yet," Blaine informed him. "So, yes, they'll expect me to have a party. They've already made plans to disappear for the weekend."

"Then, yeah, I'll go," Kurt nodded. "Still going to ask the glee club?"

"Of course."

"Cool," Kurt said, because he didn't really know what else to say. "Should I get you anything in particular?"

"You're the only person in my life who's even remotely interested in my life, do you know that?"

"That doesn't help me with gift ideas, Anderson," Kurt smiled a little.

"You've already given me far more than I deserve," Blaine told him. "I don't need anything else."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "I'll come up with something, I guess."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

"Okay."

Kurt looked at him lying there, looking like he was on death row awaiting execution. It was awful to watch. Sure, Blaine could have prevented this from happening if he had just been truthful about who he was from the beginning, but he'd been afraid and that was acceptable, Kurt guessed. He was human and everyone got scared sometimes.

"Come here," Kurt said and he moved to kiss Blaine's lips. They made out for a long time and then Kurt pulled back. "We have to go to school, you know."

"What? Why?"

"Because if you're going to keep up the pretence, then it's not going to look good if we're both missing, is it?"

"Oh."

"Yeah," Kurt said. "Or I could just go, if you're not up to it."

"No," Blaine sighed. "I'll be okay. I should probably talk to her anyway."

"Yeah, seeing as how you found out no details, you probably should," Kurt said. "Good luck with that."

"Don't wish me luck, though I do need all the luck I can get," Blaine apprised him. "Kiss me one more time, because I guess this is it for us."

Kurt's smile fell and he nodded. "Guess so."

Blaine pressed his mouth down over Kurt's and he kissed him slowly, gently and for a long time.

"I'm going to miss kissing you," Blaine whispered once they'd stopped.

"Me, too," Kurt told him. "I'm still your friend, though. You know that?"

Blaine nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, me, too."

"We should get dressed."

"We should."

"You should get off of me, then," Kurt smiled.

"I know," Blaine told him. He frowned then. "I wish things were different."

"Me, too."

"This is it, then."

"Yep," Kurt sighed. "Maybe it's for the best."

Maybe it was, but if it was, why did he feel so heart broken?

"Maybe," Blaine said. "But I doubt it, because it doesn't feel that way."

"I know."

* * *

><p>"You can't tell anyone," Quinn informed him.<p>

"I didn't plan on telling anyone," Blaine said. Kurt didn't count, he had conceded, because Kurt was Kurt and he could talk to Kurt without having to worry about the entire world finding out.

"Just so you know," Quinn began. "I'm going to keep this a secret for as long as I can. I'm eight weeks now and I'm hoping it doesn't show for a long time."

This all felt very surreal and Blaine felt dizzy. _A baby. _It all felt like some kind of crazy dream and he wished he could just wake up.

"Okay," he said, in a bit of a daze.

"So," Quinn said. "Your party. Who's going?"

Blaine shrugged. How could she worry about something like a part at a time like this?

"Um, everyone I'm assuming," he told her. "I'm inviting the glee club."

Quinn gave him this look, a look that seemed to question his very existence.

"What?"

"You're inviting those losers?" she asked. "_Why?_"

"Well, because I'm in glee club with them," Blaine provided. "I mean, why did you even join if you're just going to be rude to them? And I have a better question, why the hell did Puckerman join?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and groaned. "Who cares?" she said. "You don't have to invite them, you know? I mean, it's not like you're obliged to invite them."

"I want to invite them," Blaine said. "And I'm going to, later on at glee club."

Quinn's face was a mask of disapproval. "Fine, Blaine, you do that."

If they were going to be together forever (he cringed every time he thought of it), he figured it was time he stopped being the push over in this relationship.

"I will."

* * *

><p>"Wait, is this a trick?" Rachel demanded. "Because if you plan on setting us on fire, or something equally as <em>illegal<em>, I think you should rethink that, Blaine Anderson, I'll have you know that my—"

"It's not a trick," Blaine said. "I just thought you guys could, you know, come. If you wanted to. You don't even have to get me anything."

"You think we're not going to go because we don't want to buy you a gift?" Santana asked. "No way, Anderson. If we're not going it is not because we can't afford you a stupid present. It'll be because a) we don't like you and b) we don't like you."

"Santana," Kurt said, with a warning tone.

"Are you sure this isn't some kind of trick, Blaine?" Tina asked from her seat at the back.

"I wish it was," Quinn rolled her eyes. Everyone looked at her. "What? I'm just saying you guys don't really belong at Blaine's party, do you?"

Blaine sighed. Why was she even in glee club, anyway?

"Quinn, are you trying to say you don't want us there?" Kurt asked, sweetly.

Blaine couldn't ignore that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he looked at or thought of Kurt. He wanted so desperately for things to be different, but they never could be and that made him feel sick.

"Oh, what ever gave you that idea?" Quinn asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Kurt looked at Blaine, right at him, those cerulean blues bright and shining.

"In that case," he said, firmly. "We'll be there."

Blaine smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>I know people were hoping the whole pregnancy thing would be solved here, but I just want Blaine to suffer a bit (I love you Blainers, but I love angst, too). So, chances are, I'll update tomorrow, but we'll see. I'm back at college on Tuesday so I might not have time, but if I don't update tomorrow, I'll update Tuesday for definite. Let me know what you think :)<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**I own nothing! This chapter has to be the most frustrating thing I have ever written in my life. I just could not finish it for some reason and I kept hating it and wanting to start over, but I think I got it, finally. OC in here, IDK how people feel about OCs , but yeah, he'll be a bit important as we go on. I picture him as the cartoon Fred from Scooby Doo lol. Oh and the whole song lyrics thing seems to be a new thing with me, I don't know. It's called Hello and Goodbye and I had it on repeat and the lyrics fit. I'll add it to my profile :)**

* * *

><p><em>If I told you we could last forever,<br>__We could try to be something special,  
><em>_But if it fell through, baby it would all be worth it,  
><em>_Just to have met, once in our lives,  
><em>_Just to have said hello and goodbye._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18:<strong>

"Is that.. Is that what you're wearing?" Kurt asked, wide eyes taking in Rachel's outfit. She was wearing a hot pink, short-sleeved, button-up blouse and a knee-length, champagne pink, pleated skirt, complete with baby pink, knee socks and a pair of slip-on, pink, ballet pumps. A pink, bedazzled head band sat on top of her head and Kurt shuddered at the sight.

"This," Rachel said, nose high in the air. "Is what I call 'Sexy Schoolgirl Librarian Chic'. It's a Rachel Berry original."

"Rachel," Kurt exhaled. "There is a librarian at the local library and she's at least 55 and she dresses better than you. That is definitely not the look of a librarian."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, I happen to like how I look."

Kurt shook his head and gave himself a once-over in his dresser mirror. He smoothed the side of his hair down, then turned to look at Rachel. She was flipping through his CD collection.

"You ready?" he asked.

"I'm very impressed with your musical tastes."

"That wasn't the question," Kurt deadpanned.

"What?" Rachel asked, looking up. "Oh. Right. Did you get him anything?"

Kurt paused for a second. "No."

Rachel laid the CDs down. "I got him a card with a bear on it that says 'Happy BEAR Day' and a voucher for Build-a-Bear."

Kurt choked. "You got Blaine Anderson a voucher for Build-a-Bear? Are you high?"

Rachel sighed, sounding exasperated. Kurt couldn't believe she was serious, but she seemed to be. She rolled her dark eyes and placed a hand on either of her hips.

"Kurt, everyone loves Build-a-Bear! It's a well-known fact!"

"Okay, if you say so," Kurt smirked, because he could not wait to see the look on Blaine's face when Rachel handed him that. "Let's get going."

* * *

><p>"Oh, wow," Blaine said, staring down at the rectangular, red voucher, with the orange bear on it, holding big, yellow, block letters that spelled out 'BEAR BUCK$ $30'. "Um, thanks. No one else has gotten me one of these, believe it or not."<p>

Rachel grinned, happily and nodded. She flicked her dark hair over her pink-clad shoulder and said, "You're very welcome. I know we're not really friends, Blaine Anderson, but it is your birthday and I hope you're having a good day."

Blaine smiled, then, because this girl, who he had slushied probably every day since freshman year, was being unnecessarily nice to him. He felt his insides warming. "Thanks," he shrugged. "Um, I hope you have a good time."

Rachel nodded, then turned around and walked towards Finn Hudson, who had just entered with Sam Evans and Artie Abrams.

"So, what's the expiry date on that thing?"

Blaine turned around and saw Kurt standing there, smiling at him. He was dressed in a dark jacket, with an azure shirt underneath. He was wearing his usual tight pants, but today they were white and showed off his finer assets. Blaine looked back up to Kurt's face and smiled.

"I have no idea, but I'll make sure I don't miss it," Blaine told him, placing the card and the voucher inside his mother's glass unit.

"Well, I don't think my gift can beat that, to be honest."

"I told you not to get me anything," Blaine said. A gift from Kurt would just be a painful reminder of what he could never have again. The past week had been bad enough. They'd been sort of shy around each other, which was ridiculous, really, but things had changed, Blaine guessed.

"Oh, shut up," Kurt smiled and reached into his inside pocket. He glanced around to make sure no one was paying special attention, then produced a small box, wrapped in shining gold paper. "Here," he said, handing it to Blaine. "Open it later, though. When everyone isn't watching."

Blaine looked up at him, eyes questioning. What could it be that he couldn't open it in public?

"It's probably not what you're thinking, Blaine," Kurt chuckled. "Because I know how you think."

"I wasn't—"

"Yes, you were," Kurt smirked, eyes lighting up. "But it's just.. People will start assuming things that aren't true—well, that aren't true _any more_, but.. Yeah. Just open it later, or something."

Blaine nodded and slid the box inside his pocket. "Thanks," he smiled. "So, do you think anyone else from glee will get me a Build-a-Bear voucher?"

"You can only hope," Kurt grinned.

* * *

><p>"I'm leaving early," Quinn informed Blaine. She was shooting dirty looks across the room at the glee club, who were smiling and laughing in one corner of Blaine's living room.<p>

"Okay," Blaine simply shrugged. He slipped his hand inside his pocket and felt for the box Kurt had given him. "I'll be right back. Bathroom," he provided, then pushed his way through the crowds. He greeted a few people as he went, then climbed the stairs.

Blaine unlocked his bedroom door, then went inside and locked it behind him. He switched on a light and went to sit on the bed, then took the box from his pocket and tore the paper off, carefully. For some reason, he felt nervous. He shook his head in an endeavour to get rid of his nerves and tore off the final strip of wrapping paper. Blaine lifted the lid and looked inside.

He felt himself smiling when he saw what was inside. A small, silver plate was staring up at him and he reached in and pulled it out from the purple tissue paper it sat in. It was a bracelet, one that matched the one he had given Kurt on his birthday. For a second, he thought it might be the same one, that Kurt was returning it because of how things had gone between them, but when he flipped it over, he saw that the words on the plate were different ones._  
>I keep thinking in a moment time will take them away,<br>But these feelings won't go away._

Blaine sighed tiredly as he stared down at the words, his insides twirling. When had his life gotten so complicated? And why had he allowed it to get this far? He wondered if it would ever get better, easier, but he simply could not envision that happening. Those words reminded him of exactly how he had felt when he had sang that song in glee. He was confused, lost, afraid of everything.

Now, it was different. He was still confused, still lost and definitely still afraid, but for different reasons. What he felt for Kurt was something he couldn't really explain, but it didn't look as if it would go away any time soon and apparently, Kurt felt the same. He felt like crap lately, like he wanted to cry and sleep all the time. He didn't cry and rarely slept. He spent most of his time watching old Pokémon episodes. Blaine Anderson lived a fun-filled life, that was for sure.

He unclasped the bracelet and fastened it around his wrist, his left one, because Kurt kept his on his left hand. He looked down at it for a long time and fought to push away thetears stinging at his eyes. He wouldn't cry, not now, not ever. He would get through this, he would come out on top at the end of it all.

At least, that was what he told himself. In reality, he didn't see any possible way that he would ever be truly happy again. He wished he could spend the rest of his life not remembering what he had had with Kurt, wished he could take some kind of permanent pill that would wipe away his memory. On the other hand, he had been happy with Kurt, at least for the most part. Frequently, his mind had been filled with worries and fears, but when it came down to happiness, Kurt gave him that.

Blaine stood up and pushed down his sleeve, then opened the door and put on a smile, before going downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe he couldn't erase his memory permanently with some kind of pill or machine, but for now, there was alcohol and alcohol always made things go away, if just for a little while.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God, Blaine, that was so freakin' cool!" Noah Puckerman was shouting excitedly across the room.<p>

Kurt hadn't seen what exactly was 'so freakin' cool', because he had been trying to avoid looking at Blaine the entire party. They had caught little glances of one another by mistake and smiled timidly and Kurt had conceded that it was very, very awkward. He wondered how long it would be before making eye contact in the school hallways would become awkward.

A bunch of the jocks were laughing and high-fiving one another. They looked like idiots. Kurt rolled his eyes and looked down at his luminous yellow bottle of Mountain Dew. He hated Mountain Dew, he had no idea why he was drinking it. He looked up again when he heard another loud whoop of laughter.

He saw Quinn standing there next to Blaine, smiling. Blaine was downing a can of beer far too quickly. Kurt wondered what might happen if he choked. Would it be frowned upon if he ran over and performed first aid? Mouth to mouth? It would be, after all, a life or death situation. Still, he couldn't help thinking that people would make assumptions even at this. Hopefully Blaine wouldn't choke anyway.

Quinn was whispering in Blaine's ear now and he wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning either. He looked neutral, like he had given up on caring. Kurt would have been happy for him if giving up on caring didn't entail giving up on caring for Kurt, too. Kurt stood up and went outside when Quinn's arms wrapped around Blaine's waist. He looked uncomfortable, but didn't make any move to detach himself from her. Kurt guessed this would be the norm now. They were, after all, expecting a baby.

It was at times like this that Kurt wished he was a chronic alcoholic.

* * *

><p>"Well, that could stop traffic," a voice said behind Kurt. "Careful, you might cause an accident."<p>

Kurt turned around and saw a guy standing there, a guy he didn't recognise. Kurt had stepped out onto Blaine's front porch for some air, after having gotten borderline depressed at the sight of Blaine with his girlfriend. He had no right, he knew that, but that didn't mean he wouldn't still hurt.

"Excuse me?"

"You know," the guy said, gesturing at the cars driving by. "A car accident."

He was a tall, muscled, athletic kind of guy. He looked sort of like a surfer from one of those ridiculous daytime sitcoms, with his golden boy looks, except he was dressed in a faded, black, leather jacket and faded blue denim jeans. His hair was a sunkissed blonde and fell across his eyes in wispy tufts. He had a light tan and dark, mysterious eyes. He was, by all accounts, a very attractive guy.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about," Kurt told him, truthfully.

"Your ass."

Kurt spluttered, then and gave the boy an incredulous look. "My... Wow. Okay. Who are you?" Kurt asked, turning all the way around so that his rear end was not in this guy's immediate line of sight.

"What, you don't know you have a good ass?" he asked, with a mischievous grin. "Are the guys round here just really oblivious, or really dumb?"

"Neither," Kurt said.

"Kenneth Puckerman," the boy provided. "Call me Kenny."

"Puckerman?" Kurt asked, one eyebrow raised. "As in Noah Puckerman?"

The guy—Kenneth—shrugged. "He's my cousin," he said. "Apparently, I was 'spiralling out of control', so I got sent to live here."

Kurt nodded, knowingly. "Puck's cousin. That would explain the bad pick up lines."

Kenneth laughed, then and Kurt was about to excuse himself and head back inside to find Mercedes or Rachel and ask them if they wanted to leave, but Kenneth started talking again.

"Kurt Hummel, right? Rumour has it you're the only other gay kid in town," he said. Kurt tilted his head, because that wasn't exactly the whole truth. "Wanna go find an empty room?"

"Um," Kurt said, staring at the guy with a stunned look on his face. "No, actually, I don't. I'm just going to go insi—"

"So, Blaine Anderson."

Kurt stopped still. "What?"

Kenneth nodded, still grinning. "Well, I figure you must be friends, or something," he said. "I mean, otherwise you wouldn't be here, would you?"

Kurt said nothing, just watched Kenneth through narrowed eyes.

"So, what is it? Football team?"

Kurt scoffed. "No," he said. "Blaine and I.. It's a complicated—friendship." He wasn't lying. It was definitely complicated and now it was just a friendship, which, combined, made it a complicated friendship.

"I've never liked Blaine Anderson," Kenneth told Kurt, who simply folded his arms over his chest. "'Guy thinks he's better than everyone."

"Blaine's okay," Kurt said, despite the fact that he wanted to say more. Kenneth was Puck's cousin and anything Kurt said might very well get back to Puck.

"_Please,_" Kenneth laughed. "He's drinking himself half to death in there."

"Blaine's got a lot going on," Kurt said, sounding defensive, even to himself.

"What, you got the hots for the guy?" Kenneth smirked, raising his tawny eyebrows.

Kurt wavered for a second. "Wh-what? No," he said, quickly. "Not at all."

"I mean, I guess I couldn't blame you if you did," Kenneth went on as if Kurt hadn't even spoken. "He's sort of hot, you know, if you're into the short, dark and handsome type of thing. Which I'm totally not. No one wants Prince Charming any more, they want the sexy villain. I have a feeling you are no exception."

"Wrong," Kurt informed him. "I'm a hopeless romantic."

"Oh, I wouldn't say _hopeless_," Kenneth winked.

"Well, with people like you around, Kenny," Kurt smiled, walking past him, towards the door. "One would tend to forget that romance even exists."

"Oh, I know how to do romance, Kurt Hummel," Kenneth said, standing up straight. "You just have to give me the chance to show you."

"Not a chance," Kurt said and he turned away from Kenneth and continued on his way to the door.

"Damn," Kenneth said loudly behind him. "I know what I'll be thinking about tonight."

Kurt tilted his head sideways to see Kenneth ogling his butt.

"It's already tonight," Kurt apprised him.

"_Exactly_," Kenneth grinned from ear to ear, as he brought one of his hands to the zipper on his jeans and started to unzip them, slowly.

Kurt hurried inside, face burning wildly.

* * *

><p>"Hey, you look bored," Blaine said, stopping next to Kurt.<p>

"Drunk?" Kurt asked, raising his voice over the music.

"Getting there," Blaine said, holding his can up for Kurt to see. He hated that about parties, the fact that you had to over-emphasise everything just so that people knew what you were talking about. Kurt rolled his eyes. "So, are you? Bored, I mean."

Kurt shrugged. "Nah, I'm fine," he told him. "I'm slightly amused, I must say."

Kurt looked around the room at people dancing badly and singing badly. There were various conversations occurring all over the room and all the sounds mingled together to create one large murmur.

"Hey, hot stuff."

Kurt turned instantly and saw Kenneth standing there. His skin was smooth and looked more tan in the bright lights of Blaine's mother's chandelier. Blaine looked at Kenneth, too, confusion on his face.

"No one says 'hot stuff' any more, Kenneth," Kurt said, rolling his eyes again. "This isn't the nineties."

"Anderson," Kenneth greeted Blaine, ignoring Kurt's remark.

"Kurt has a point, you know, Kenny," Blaine said, gravely. "Hot stuff isn't cool any more. In fact, I don't think it was ever cool."

Kenny laughed out loud and laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Kurt took a step back out of his reach. "I suppose you'd know what's cool, wouldn't you, Blaine?" Kenneth grinned. "Or maybe Kurt here can get me up to scratch, if you know what I mean."

"Or not," Kurt said, face sombre.

"Maybe next time, eh? Well, I'll see you later, Kurt," Kenneth smiled, brightly, ignoring Blaine entirely. "I'm going to go _mingle._"

Kurt and Blaine watched him disappear into the crowds, then Blaine turned to look at Kurt questioningly.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"Nothing," Blaine shrugged. After a minute, he spoke again. "He, um, seems to like you."

Kurt smirked, because Blaine was _jealous _and even though things weren't the same any more and Kurt could never have Blaine, it still felt good that he still liked him like that. Of course, later when he thought about it, it would only make him feel worse, but for now it just felt good.

"Well, I am a pretty likeable guy," Kurt teased.

"Don't I know it," Blaine murmured and took a long swig from his can. "Empty. Gonna go get another. I'll see you later, okay?"

As he began walking away, his arm brushed Kurt's and they exchanged a glance, then frowned. Kurt thought about telling Blaine to take it easy on the alcohol, because he didn't want him to do anything dumb, but he didn't because this was how Blaine seemed to cope.

"Are you.. are you okay?" Kurt asked, quietly.

"No," Blaine told him. "But let's face it, I never really have been."

* * *

><p>"Blaine Anderson is out of his mind drunk," Mercedes informed Kurt, sitting down next to him.<p>

Kurt frowned because he knew just why Blaine was making himself so drunk. He wanted to escape, to forget. He remembered what he had said to him the first time he had seen him drunk. _Don't you like the feeling of getting away from everything? Just for a little while? Don't you just want everything to fuck off just for a little while? _Now, more than ever, Blaine had good reason to want to get far, far away from reality.

"It is his birthday," Kurt said. "I guess he's got the right to get drunk out of his mind."

"The boy's going to do himself some damage."

Kurt only had a split second to be concerned, because a loud, high-pitched voice sounded then.

"GUYS!"

Kurt looked up and saw the neon pink figure that was Rachel Berry coming towards them. "Can you guys do me a favour?"

"No," both Kurt and Mercedes said in unison.

"Oh, come on!" Rachel urged. "Pleaseeeee?"

"What do you want, Rachel?" Mercedes sighed. Kurt kept his eyes on the ground, because Rachel's outfit was giving him a serious headache. The last thing he needed was a headache on top everything else.

"I've been dying for the bathroom for the past hour, but I've been too scared to go in there in case someone bursts in!"

"That's what the lock is for, Rachel," Kurt informed her and he hoped nobody would question him as to how he even knew there was a lock on the bathroom door in Blaine's house. Thankfully, nobody did.

"I'm too afraid to lock the door!" Rachel told them. "What if I get locked in? I've got terrible claustrophobia and I'm not sure I could—"

"Oh, come on," Kurt said, standing up, with a sigh, tired of listening to her babbling. "I'll do it if it'll make you stop going on and on and on."

Rachel professed her sincere gratitude and Mercedes said she would come, too. Minutes later, Kurt and Mercedes were sitting on the top steps of the staircase in Blaine's house, while Rachel used the toilet.

"This is the quietest place in the entire house," Mercedes said, leaning her head against the wall. She was right, too. Loud music poured through the rest of the house, as well as people laughing and shouting and chatting away. Up there, the music felt distant and the soft murmurs sounded as if they were a million miles away. It was nice to get away from it for a bit.

Rachel came out a few minutes later. She said thank you, then skipped downstairs to find Finn. Kurt and Mercedes stayed there.

"So, the Valentine's dance is on in about three and a half weeks," Mercedes said. "You gonna go?"

A Valentine's dance. That was exactly what he needed to remind him of how painfully lonely he was in the romance department.

Kurt laughed, quietly. "Not very likely, is it?"

"It could be fun," Mercedes shrugged. "I mean, we'll have to see Blaine Anderson and Quinn Fabray get crowned Valentine's Prince and Princess, but besides that."

Kurt most definitely did not want to see that. He wondered then if Quinn would be crowned Valentine's Princess, because it was possible that her bump would be showing by then. Maybe it would be fun to see her face when she didn't win. Kurt scolded himself for being so horrible, then. That was an awful thing to think.

"Nah," he said. "I don't think so."

"Last year Puckerman set off the fire alarm and coach Sylvester tripped and landed with her face in the punch bowl," Mercedes informed him. "Something ridiculous always happens at these dances. You might be sorry if you don't go."

"I might be sorry if I _do _go," Kurt replied. "Chances are this 'something ridiculous' you speak of will happen to me."

"Well, think about it," Mercedes told him

Kurt said nothing, just nodded.

* * *

><p>The figures at the top of the stairs were a big, colourful blur of light. He squinted his eyes and climbed the steps, legs wobbling. They were like mountains, these steps. He had to reach the top. When he got there he would shout EUREKA! at the top of his lungs.<p>

The world was beautiful, so fucking magical and beautiful and he just wanted to.. to sing and learn how to fly and catch all 150 Pokémon and take them back to his mom to show her he was the Pokémon master and not that asshole Gary. But first he had to get to the top of this mountain.

He fell to his knees as he made the great endeavour to overcome these large, heavy obstacles. He could do this. He _would_ do this! He clawed his way past the rough rocks and the snowy hills and the crowd was cheering his name.

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

* * *

><p>"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed when he saw him falling down one step. He began crawling then, his face filled with determination like he was conquering Mount Everest and not a flight of stairs in his own home.<p>

"I told you he was going to do himself damage," Mercedes said, tiredly beside Kurt.

Kurt looked down at him. He was a mess. His eyes were half-lidded and his jaw was clenched and his shirt looked twisted. His hair was stuck to his forehead, stray curls coming loose. Kurt shook his head.

"Maybe we should help him," he suggested.

"He's almost there, leave him be!" Mercedes smiled. "He looks like he's competing in the Olympics, look at his face."

Kurt didn't want to look at his face. He wanted to get him away from there, away from all of them, because when Blaine was drunk, he revealed so many things and Kurt only wanted him to reveal these things to him. It was stupid, because he and Blaine weren't really what one could classify as real friends, or anything else really, but he couldn't help it.

Finally, Blaine arrived at the top of the stairs, grinning lopsidedly.

"Kurt," he breathed. "I did it!"

Kurt stifled a smile. "Yeah, congrats."

"You did real good, Blaine," Mercedes chuckled.

Blaine continued smiling as he moved to sit down on the step beneath the one Kurt and Mercedes were occupying. He sat down and almost fell and they had to reach out and steady him. Blaine looked up then and his eyes were all light and fire.

"Mercedes," Blaine uttered, but he kept his eyes locked with Kurt's. "Kurt's got blue eyes."

Mercedes bit her bottom lip to control her laughter. "Yes, he does."

"Kurt," Blaine said, climbing to his knees. "Your blue shirt matches your blue eyes and now everything is blue."

"Um, okay," Kurt said, with a smile.

Blaine looked up at Mercedes then and tilted his head to the side.

"Mercedes," he said again. "Did I show you what Kurt got me for my birthday?"

Kurt froze, his heart beat speeding up.

"No," Mercedes said, with some amusement.

"It was just a book voucher," Kurt said, quickly. "Right, Blaine?" He looked down into Blaine's bright eyes and tried to send a signal, but nothing was registering, obviously.

"No!" Blaine laughed out loud. "No, he got me _this_!"

Blaine raised his arm as if he was a superhero about to soar off into the clouds. he reached up and tugged his sleeve down lazily to reveal the silver links hanging loosely around his wrist. Kurt didn't know what to do. This was bad in every sense of the word.

"I didn't—"

Kurt tried to deny it, but Blaine cut him off.

"Look, read the words," he smiled and held it out for Mercedes to see. She glanced at Kurt, questioningly, then squinted to look at the bracelet. Kurt felt his cheeks heating up. How was he going to get out of this one?

"'I keep thinking in a moment time will take them away'," Mercedes read, slowly, her hand clasped around Blaine's arm. "'But these feelings won't go away'_._" She looked up at Kurt then, sheer horror on her face. "What's goi—"

"Wait!" Blaine said, happily. "You haven't heard the best part, yet!" Kurt sat still as Blaine reached over and took his hand. He raised it a little and pushed his sleeve away and then Kurt's matching bracelet was on view.

"'I want to take you far from the cynics of this town and kiss you on the mouth'," Mercedes whispered. "Kurt, are you—"

"Sometimes Kurt and I would go to the field and look at the stars," Blaine said, dreamily. His eyes were half-lidded again and he was smiling, gazing vacantly into nothingness. "One time, we took off all our clothes—"

"Blaine!" Kurt said, alarmed. "Blaine, don—"

"And we made love under the stars and it was the best night of my life," Blaine said, now looking up at the ceiling as if the stars were up there. He sighed. "But Kurt doesn't want me like that any more."

Kurt frowned at that. He didn't know whether he should shake Blaine and tell him he couldn't say these things in front of others, or shake him and tell him that he needed to get it into his head that Kurt still wanted him, that he would always want him.

"Kurt, what's—"

"Mercedes," Kurt said, sounding a little breathless. His stomach was filled with butterflies, all darting around and flirting with one another. "I promise you I will explain everything, just please help me get him inside his room. He can't say anything like that in front of anyone else. _Please, _Mercedes_._"

Mercedes looked confused, as she stared back at Kurt . Blaine was humming, still smiling at the ceiling. Kurt pleaded with Mercedes with his eyes, hoping she would say yes, because if Blaine said anything like that downstairs in front of anyone else, he was finished. His entire life would topple over the cliff and into the fast running water below. Kurt couldn't let that happen.

"Please," he said, quietly.

Mercedes nodded. "Okay."

* * *

><p>"So, you're sleeping with him," Mercedes said, sounding as if she didn't really believe it. "You're sleeping with Blaine Anderson."<p>

"No," Kurt told her. "I did. Like, once, or twice."

Mercedes didn't need to know the exact number of times anyway.

"Once or twice?" she asked, eyes almost popping. "But how? Blaine... Quinn.. I mean.." She trailed off with a shake of her head.

"He has a lot of issues," Kurt informed her, simply.

Which was sort of another understatement, but he didn't really want to share the details of Blaine's issues with anyone without Blaine's go ahead. They sat there on Blaine's stairs in silence for another few minutes, the part still in full swing downstairs.

"I don't understand any of this," Mercedes told him finally.

Kurt sighed, because he couldn't explain the entire situation without adding in the little fact that Quinn was having Blaine's baby. He had promised to keep quiet about that and he would, no matter what.

"I don't know what to tell you," Kurt frowned. "It's complicated, but it's over, so there's nothing to worry about now."

People kept leaving through the front door and every time they entered the hallways downstairs, Kurt and Mercedes stopped speaking immediately. Now, Azimio had come outside and was opening the front door to leave.

"So, what are you going to do now?" Mercedes asked, once Azimio had left the hall.

"I don't know," Kurt told her, truthfully. "I guess I should make sure he's okay, right?"

Mercedes just nodded. "Should we tell people to leave?"

"Mayb—"

Puck and Kenneth walked out into the hall, laughing. Mercedes and Kurt froze and watched them. Kurt willed them to just leave, but Kenneth somehow managed to spot him.

"Hey, hottie," he shouted.

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. "Not now," he groaned.

"When?" Kenny smirked from the bottom of the stairs. "How about tomorrow night?"

"How about never?" Kurt suggested. The guy just didn't know how to take no for an answer.

"Until next time, Hummel," Kenny said with a wink and then he followed Puck out the door.

"Who in the—"

"Don't ask."

"Do you like him?" Mercedes said, nudging him with her elbow.

"No."

"But you like Blaine Anderson?"

Kurt paused. "Also no."

"I knew you were crushing on him!" Mercedes said, face suddenly lighting up.

"I said no—"

"I may be tired and I may have a headache, Kurt, but I know these things," she said and she grabbed the banister rail and pulled herself to her feet. "I will go get rid of everyone else and I will go home and you can go make sure lover boy is still in one piece."

Kurt thought about arguing back, but he was too tired at that stage. He sighed and nodded.

"Okay," he said. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, Hummel," Mercedes called back. "I expect a full explanation tomorrow!"

* * *

><p>Blaine didn't wake up until the following morning. He sat up, feeling confused and his head was pounding. Then he saw the figure sleeping on the end of his bed.<p>

_Kurt._

He didn't remember last night, so he couldn't have said what exactly had happened, but he was fully clothed, which was a good thing. It was odd that he felt sort of disappointed about that, though. He shook his head and groaned then forced himself to climb down the end.

He looked down at Kurt sleeping, his lips parted and eyes closed. He had watched Kurt sleeping so many times before. He wondered if he should leave him alone, let him sleep, but he needed to ask him all the questions that were swimming round in his mind.

Blaine reached out and took Kurt's shoulders gently in his hands and shook him softly.

"Kurt," he hissed and Kurt stirred. It took him a few moments to open his eyes entirely and when he did, he smiled and Blaine smiled back, but then Kurt's smile faded to a frown and he sat up quickly.

"What are— Oh. Right," he said, seemingly relieved.

"I know something bad happened," Blaine said with a sigh. "So what was it?"

He could sense it, otherwise, why would Kurt even be here?

"Well," Kurt began, sitting up and running his fingers through his sand-brown hair. "To put it bluntly, you sort of gave us away in front of Mercedes."

And just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, he had gone and done something like that.

* * *

><p>"Relax," Kurt told Blaine, who seemed to be having some sort of silent panic attack. "Look, if I ask her not to, she won't tell a soul. It'll be okay."<p>

"Okay" Blaine whispered and then they were quiet for a long time.

Kurt couldn't stop thinking about what Blaine had said to Mercedes the night before, about the night in the field being the best night of his life, about how he had said Kurt didn't want him like that any more. For the millionth time, he wished things were different. He never wished to erase what had happened, because despite the fact that it was a complicated mess and that it had broken his heart, he wouldn't give up how he had felt when he was with Blaine for the world. It was strange, it was the greatest feeling in the world, but sometimes, he couldn't help but hate it because of what it did to him.

"Blaine," Kurt said, after a while and Blaine looked up at him with those copper coloured eyes. "I know it's not my place to tell you this and I know you're going through a lot, but I think maybe you should stop with the large amount of alcohol consumption. I know it takes away the pain for a short time and you need that, but it's not doing you any favours. You wake up feeling worse, you barely know what you're doing when you're drunk on it. By trying to make things better, you're making things worse. Just a suggestion."

Blaine sighed. "I know," he said, quietly. "I just need to get away, Kurt. I want to run away and never come back, but I could never do that."

Kurt nodded. He knew what that was like. When he had been on his old school and had to deal with the extreme bullying, he had spent every day wanting to get away, in whatever way he could, but there was his dad and he couldn't leave his dad.

"I mean, there's this whole baby thing, obviously, but now she wants to promote us for this dumb Valentine's dance. I mean, I think we have bigger things to worry about than that. I can't believe I let this happen."

"I'd like to tell you it's not your fault, but.." Kurt trailed off, because he didn't want to rub it in.

"I know, it is," Blaine nodded. "I just.. I wish I could go back, start again. But I don't even know what that means. If I went back to the beginning, what would I do? And where is the beginning, anyway? I still don't know what's going on with me—with you, with Quinn—I just don't know. So, if I went back, I don't know what would happen. I think I would do the exact same thing and then it leaves me right back at square one."

"I know, I think," Kurt said, thoughtfully. He understood, to an extent, anyway.

"Sorry," Blaine said, shaking his head. "I'm always moping. Um, thank you, for the, um, bracelet. It's.. Well. It's awesome."

Kurt only shrugged and gave Blaine a small smile.

"Can I ask you something?" Blaine said, then, crossing his legs. "I might regret asking this, because it might make things worse, but I have to know."

"Go for it," Kurt shrugged, trying to play it cool. He was a bag of nerves every time someone asked if they could ask him something.

"The lyrics on the bracelet," he said, slowly. "Is that.. Is that how you feel?"

_Yes._

"I don't know."

"Me neither," Blaine sighed.

* * *

><p>He had no idea how it had happened, but Kurt's tongue was in his mouth and Blaine had his hand on Kurt's left butt cheek. It was strange, Blaine knew that he wanted Kurt, but until they were touching, he had no idea to hat extent he wanted him. It turned out that he wanted him quite a lot.<p>

"Okay," Kurt said, pushing him off, gently. "Okay, no. You are having a baby."

Blaine frowned and sat back. "As if I could forget."

"Sorry," Kurt uttered.

"It's okay," Blaine exhaled heavily. "Thank you for stopping it, because I probably wouldn't have."

"Will power, Anderson," Kurt grinned and Blaine's heart dropped to the ground and then bounced its way back up again. He hated how badly he wanted Kurt, hated how he noticed these ridiculous little details, like his slow-motion blinking and his fluid movement and the sparkle he got in his eyes every time he teased Blaine.

"Apparently, I have none."

"Apparently not," Kurt chuckled. "Okay, so we need to make sure that doesn't happen again, okay?"

Blaine just nodded. Kurt seemed to study him for a long time, that ice blue gaze drinking him in.

"You'll get over this, you know."

"You, you mean?"

Kurt shrugged, absently. "Me, if you like."

"Doesn't seem plausible," Blaine told him, truthfully.

"You sleeping with another guy didn't seem plausible a few months ago, either," Kurt reminded him. "And look how that turned out."

"Maybe.." Blaine began. "Maybe I don't want to get over you."

Kurt shook his head in disapproval. "You have to," he told Blaine. "Look, Blaine. I still don't know what this was, this whole thing with us. I think you do know, deep down, you're just scared to admit it, to me, to yourself, even. In the end, you chose to be the guy you've pretended to be for your whole life and yeah, okay, I get it. It's not necessarily what I would do, but I get it. Circumstances are different and stuff, so yeah, I can accept it. But Blaine, you can't have it both ways. You're either this guy," Kurt said and he took Blaine's wrist gently into his hand and pressed his own bracelet to Blaine's. "Or you're this guy," and he bent to pick up Blaine's letterman jacket. "You can't have it both was."

Blaine knew he was right. Kurt was always right.

"I know," he said.

"I know that doesn't make it any easier, that you're still going to have to deal with whatever feelings you're experiencing," Kurt continued. "But things will get better. They always do, even when you don't think they can."

Blaine chuckled, then. "Every guy needs a Kurt Hummel in his life to guide him in the right direction."

Kurt didn't laugh, he smiled sadly. "Actually, Blaine," he said, sounding tired. "You're not really going in the right direction, you're just going in the direction that you think you have to go and because I like you, I'm still going to be here for you."

"Thank you," Blaine said, because he didn't know what else to say.

"No problem," Kurt said as he climbed up off the bed and on to his feet. "I'll see you at school, or you can call me if you need to, but only if you need to."

"Alright," Blaine smiled up at him.

"Happy Birthday, Blaine," Kurt said giving him a small smile, before he disappeared out the door.

Sure, it was his birthday, but he was far from happy and as far as he could see it, he never would be again.

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you think. This chapter might have given me white hairs, honestly. I was frustrated to the max. I'll try update tomorrow, but if not, definitely the next day :)<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**I own nothing. I got the document uploaded, so the paragraphs are fixed now and I went over the end again, because I wrote it so late and left out words and stuff by mistake. Ehm, yeah, I think I'm addicted to angst. Also, the return of the song lyrics! (Feels Like Sunday-Link on the profile).**

* * *

><p><em>Your scent on my t-shirt, it never seems to fade,<br>an empty seat now next to me, but the memories fill the space,  
>every moment you're not here reminds me how much I need you.<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 19:<strong>

Kurt had tried to avoid Mercedes at school on Monday, but it turned out that this was not an easy fete. She found him by his locker at lunch and told him he owed her an explanation, which he guessed he did.

"Basically, it started off as a drunken mistake that just didn't know how to end, okay?" he informed her. "I don't know what that means regarding his sexuality or whatever and I don't care, either. It's over."

Except Kurt did care and he knew Blaine was gay. He had no qualms or doubts, he just _knew._

"But you like him?"

"He's attractive and the only guy to take any interest in me," Kurt said, with a shrug. That didn't give away much. He hadn't denied it, nor had he admitted to it.

"Not exactly true," Mercedes muttered and Kurt was about to ask what she meant by that, but she was looking behind him.

Kurt turned and saw a now-familiar face looking back at him, clad in the same leather jacket, with his golden hair falling over his eyes. Kurt sighed. It hadn't occurred to him that Kenny living with Puck meant he would be attending school here.

"I'll see you later, Kurt," Mercedes said, quickly. "I have to go meet Rachel and Tina."

Kurt tried to protest, to beg her not to leave him alone with Kenny, but she was gone and now, Kenny was there next to him.

"Hey, pretty boy," Kenny smiled, all-teeth.

"Don't call me that," Kurt muttered, remembering the last time he had been called that. His heart contracted and he turned away from Kenny.

"Why not?"

Kurt ignored him and began to dig around in his locker for nothing in particular.

"So, you, me, tonight, Breadstix?" Kenny smiled. "Whaddya say?"

"I say in your dreams," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Oh, we don't go to Breadstix in my dreams, Hummel," Kenny informed him, one eyebrow tilting upwards. "We stay right at home in the comfort of my bedroom. Or yours, depending on which dream you're referring to."

Kurt felt his face flushing at the idea of Kenny thinking about him in that way. He closed his locker with a loud bang, then pulled his bag up on to his shoulder and began walking down the halls. Kenny followed him, walking a few paces behind. Kurt could feel his eyes on him and he felt uncomfortable.

"The things I would do to that ass," Kenny said, behind him, whistling low and loud.

Kurt slowed down and turned to wait for Kenny to catch up with him.

"Look," he said, firmly. "This isn't going to happen, okay?"

"Oh, really?" Kenny asked, just grinning.

"Really," Kurt affirmed. "You're not my type."

"Oh, we have a type now, do we?"

Kurt hated when people did that, when people referred to him as 'we'. "Yes and you're not it," Kurt clarified. "So, no, I will not go out with you."

"I wasn't asking you to go out with me, Kurt," Kenny smirked, taking a step closer. "I'm asking you to come home with me."

"Even worse," Kurt shook his head, trying to ignore the intense heat sweeping up the back of his neck. "I'm not going to sleep with you. I'm not into the whole 'look-at-me-I'm-a-badass-but-it's-hard-to-convince-people-of-this-because-my-name-is-Kenneth' thing. So, give up."

"Virgins," Kenny said, with an exasperated sigh.

"I," Kurt informed him. "Am not a virgin."

He probably should have shut up and allowed him to think that he was, maybe then he would leave him alone, but Kurt's verbal diarrhoea seemed to strike at the most inconvenient times.

"Oh, yeah?" Kenny grinned. "I have this gay-guy intuition and I bet you're a bottom. No guy in his right mind would pass up the chance to be inside that a—"

"Okay!" Kurt said, quickly. He had bottomed more than he had topped, that was true, but only because Blaine seemed to enjoy finge— He stopped, shook his head, trying to rid his mind of Blaine and Blaine's fingers and where he liked to have them, because he was trying to forget Blaine, trying to get over him. Which was obviously working out so well.

"Oh, come on, Hummel," Kenny said, following him. "One night, that's all I'm asking."

"You realise you're begging me for sex, Kenneth," Kurt said, staring straight ahead.

"Well, it doesn't look like I'm going to get it anywhere else around here," he replied, sounding disappointed.

"You are obviously looking in all the wrong places, then."

"Who?"

"What?"

"Who else is gay?"

"I'm not going to tell you," Kurt smirked looking back at him. "Use your 'gay-guy intuition'."

* * *

><p>"Hey, you're late," Puck said, when Kenny sat down at the tale at lunch. Blaine wished he could wipe the smirk that seemed to be permanently on his face off. He scowled down into his pasta.<p>

"I was doing a little wooing," Kenny informed Puck.

"Wooing?" Puck asked, mouth full. "Wooing who?"

"One Kurt Hummel."

Blaine looked up quickly, suddenly interested.

"Please," Puck said, spitting chips every where. "Hummel isn't your type. He won't put out."

"Because you'd know," Kenny smirked. "But, nope, apparently he is not a virgin, so all is not lost."

Blaine did not add that this was true, nor did he point out that he was the reason that this was true, because that would probe a lot of questions that he did not feel like answering right now.

"Pretty sure he's lying to you," Puck told him, taking a swig from a can of coke. "I mean, he's _Hummel_."

"He happens to be a hot piece of ass," Kenny declared and Blaine felt his stomach twisting. He had no right to feel jealous because of this, but he couldn't help it. He wanted to shove Kenny against a wall and tell him to back off, that Kurt was his. But Kurt wasn't his, not now. In fact, he never really had been.

"Heard you're pretty pally with him, Anderson," Kenny said, looking across the table at Blaine, with those dark-as-night eyes.

"What?" Blaine said, looking up, trying to look oblivious. "Oh, we're in glee together and we have to work as partners for English, but that's it." Which was technically true, if you didn't count the part where they'd slept together (way more than once), or when Kurt had helped him with his concussion, or when Blaine had told him he loved him..

"So, maybe you could put in a good word for me," Kenny grinned. "You know, when you're slaving over Shakespeare, or whatever you could maybe slip in what a stud I am."

_No_, Blaine thought. _I cannot._

"I'm not a big fan of lying, Kenny," Blaine told him and he laughed silently, in spite of himself. Saying that he didn't lie was a lie in itself. Blaine was the master of lies and pretences. So, in lying about not lying, he was lying again. It seemed that things just kept on piling up and pretty soon, it would all tip over and smother him to death.

"Ha-ha, funny, Anderson," Kenny said, pulling that awful leather jacket up on his shoulders. Blaine had know Kenny since they were about five and Blaine couldn't remember a day past the age of fourteen when Kenny had not been wearing it. Kenny reached into the inside pocket of said jacket and pulled out a battered schedule. "I have—ah, math next. Who wants to walk me to class?"

* * *

><p>"Kurt!"<p>

Kurt stood up from his desk and ran upstairs to see what his dad needed. He couldn't help feeling a twinge of nervousness every time his dad shouted down for him, always fearful that he was sick again. However, when he reached the hallway, his dad was standing there with the phone pressed to his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, instinctively.

"There's a Kenneth Puckerman on the phone for you," Burt told him, a disapproving look on his face. "Says it's important."

Kurt rolled his eyes. 'Important' probably meant Kenny had a hard-on and wanted phone sex, or something. He took the phone with a sigh and held it up to his ear, aware of his dad lingering by the living room door.

"What?" Kurt said, flatly.

"Aww, baby," Kenny said on the other end. "It's nice to hear your voice, too."

"What do you want, Kenny?" Kurt sighed, leaning back against the wall. He was not in the mood to have to deal with Kenny right now.

"You."

"Well, you're out of luck," Kurt told him, tiredly.

"Aw, come on," Kenny urged. "I'll even take you to dinner beforehand."

Beforehand. Meaning before sex. How romantic.

"I'll have to pass."

"I won't give up, Hummel," Kenny informed him, sounding happy. "They can never resist me in the end."

"I have standards, Kenneth," Kurt apprised him, firmly. "I don't just sleep with any Tom, Dick, or Harry." He said that last part very quietly, because his dad was only a few feet away and the walls were thin.

"Hey, Kurt," Kenny said and Kurt could hear the lopsided smirk in his voice. "Say the word 'dick' again, that was hot."

Kurt slammed the phone down and brushed his dad's questions off with a wave. He went back down to his room to do his homework and mope some more about Blaine Anderson, because that was all he seemed to do any more.

* * *

><p>"Hey, pretty boy."<p>

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned around, prepared for Kenny's smirking face. He had called him every day that week and Kurt was really getting sick of his incessant bad pick-up lines and having to tell his dad it was nothing, that he didn't need to worry.

"I told you not to call me tha..."

He stopped still, because next to Kenny, was Blaine Anderson, looking as gorgeous as always. Kurt found that the Blaine he pictured when he wasn't around did not do the real Blaine Anderson any justice in the least. He was far more beautiful in person, than the one in Kurt's head, despite the fact that Kurt had spent hours memorising his every feature.

Blaine was looking back at him, cautiously, his golden-brown eyes wide and bright. Kurt straightened himself up and closed his locker.

"Playing hard to get?" Kenny quipped beside Blaine.

"No," Kurt told him. "Just ignoring you."

He saw Blaine smiling slightly, just the corners of his mouth twitching an inch upwards, but it was still a smile.

"That's okay," Kenny said, brightly. "Keep that voice rested for the epic phone sex later. Usual time?"

Kurt saw Blaine frowning and then Kurt frowned, too. He groaned, then turned on his heel and headed in the other direction.

* * *

><p>"Is he bothering you?" Blaine asked later on when they were in the library. It was sort of nice to be back where, Kurt thought, back where it had all begun. "Because I can tell him to lay off, you know, if you want me to."<p>

"Forget about him," Kurt said, scribbling something about Jane's strong persona down in his notebook.

They were silent for a long time and Kurt kept writing, but Blaine sat there, looking as if he was deep in thought, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw set tightly. Kurt pretended not to notice, as he flicked through his copy of 'Jane Eyre' and jotted down quotes.

"You know what, I can't," Blaine said, finally, his voice raised a little. The librarian shushed them from the main desk and Blaine looked aggravated.

"You can't what?" Kurt asked, in a hushed tone.

"I can't forget him," Blaine shook his head.

"Kenny?" Kurt asked, slowly. "You.. You're not.. You're not crushing on him, are you?" Kurt was mortified, because 1) if it was true, Blaine had gotten over Kurt in record time and 2) Kenny was an asshole. Also, Blaine's girlfriend was pregnant with his baby, so the entire situation was very much shock-worthy.

"What?" Blaine said, voice raising a little again. "No! No, of course not! What the hell, Kurt?"

Kurt shook his head, relief soaring through his body. "Sorry," he said. "Why can't you forget about him, then?"

"I don't know," Blaine said. "But it's not like that. I can't stand the guy, trust me."

Kurt said nothing, just watched Blaine as he sat there looking mad and frustrated. It was amusing and annoying and cute and ridiculous and Kurt didn't know if he wanted to hit him or kiss him.

"He'll hurt you, you know," Blaine told him, finally, his golden eyes filled with intensity. "He just wants you for sex."

"Blaine," Kurt said, with a sigh. "Am I an idiot? Do I look like an idiot to you?"

"No, of course no—"

"I _know _what he wants, okay?" Kurt informed him. "I'm not interested."

Blaine nodded and they were silent again, so Kurt went back to writing in his notebook. He couldn't help smiling a little at the idea of Blaine being so interested in some other guy's interest in him, which was stupid, because while it was nice to know Blaine still liked him, it would do him no good. He would never have Blaine.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

Kurt looked up when he heard the whisper coming from across the table. Blaine was looking right at him with those bright eyes. Kurt looked back at him, scowling slightly.

"I'm not stupid, Blaine."

"I know," Blaine told him. "I know and I don't think you are, honestly. I just.. Kurt, I know him, okay? I know what he's like. He came to stay with Puck most summers. He goes through guys like you go through cans of hairspray." Kurt raised an eyebrow at that, but Blaine just shook his head. "He pretends like he likes them, he sleeps with them, then he just leaves them there, wondering what they did wrong, leaves them heart broken. I don't want that to happen to you."

Kurt was angry, because Blaine was acting as if he was too dumb to come to this conclusion all by himself. He groaned and tightened his hands on the arms of his chair.

"Gosh, Blaine," Kurt said, voice cutting. "Heart broken, you say? Well, we wouldn't want that, now would we? Oh, wait—_too fucking late_."

Kurt watched as Blaine opened his mouth into a small 'o' shape, his eyes crinkling a little at the sides. "Kurt," Blaine said, shaking his head again. "Kurt, no. No, I—You know I—Kurt.." Blaine trailed off, searching for words, but none came.

He would feel bad about it later, but for now he was just mad. Blaine had no right to talk to him about being heart broken when he had been the one to break his heart in the first place.

"I never meant to hurt you," Blaine told him, quietly.

"Regardless," Kurt said, stiffly. "You don't get to tell me to be careful of having my heart broken when you're the one that.." He trailed off, because he couldn't admit to Blaine that he had broken him. "Can we not talk about this?"

"Look, I just meant be careful, that's all."

"Oh my God," Kurt exhaled. "Do you even know me? Do you think I would go near him? Do you think I'm—I'm drawn to assholes, or something? God, Blaine."

"Maybe," Blaine said, quietly, eyes on his books. He was twirling his pen between his fingers.

"What?" Kurt asked. "Maybe what?"

"Maybe you are drawn to assholes."

"Blaine—"

"Look, it doesn't matter, okay?" Blaine sighed and looked up to meet Kurt's curious eyes. "I just—just want you to be okay."

"I am okay," Kurt told him, with a nod.

"Really?" Blaine asked, flatly.

"Really, Blaine," Kurt said with an inclination of his head. "I'm really just okay."

* * *

><p>"Hey, baby."<p>

"I'm hanging up," Kurt sighed and began to hang up, but he heard the voice shouting on the other end. "What?" he asked, lifting it back to his ear.

"Meet me tonight?"

Kurt sighed, because this was getting beyond ridiculous.

"Do I need a restraining order, Kenny?"

"Not at all," Kenny told him. "Don't resist."

"Okay, I'm hanging up—"

"Wait!"

Kurt waited, against his own better judgment.

"I figured something out."

"What's that?" Kurt asked, with no interest whatsoever.

"I figured out that the best way into a glee guy's pants," he began. "Is through music."

"Oh, God," Kurt gasped. "You're not going to sing, are you? I'm hanging up, oh my God—"

"No," Kenny said and Kurt listened. "I sent you a song on your cell."

"Good bye, Kenny," Kurt said, rolling his eyes and this time he did hang up. He pushed his hand into his pocket and grabbed his cell, just out of interest. He pressed 'play mp3' and the music started. Kurt almost dropped his phone.

_"I can make your bed rock,  
>I can make your bed rock, girl,<br>I can make your_—"

Kurt shut it off, quickly, his cheeks burning. This was unbelievable. How were real people even like this?

"What in the name of all that is holy.." Burt asked, walking out into the hall.

"I might possibly need a restraining order," Kurt told him, eyes still wide.

"That Blaine kid?"

"Wha—Blaine? No," Kurt shook his head. "No, not Blaine."

Burt raised one eyebrow and screwed his face up in confusion. "What happened to Blaine?"

"Long story?" Kurt offered.

"I've got time."

* * *

><p>"So, this kid just decided he wanted to go back to being straight with his girlfriend," Burt repeated for the fourth time.<p>

"Yes, dad."

"Okay," Burt said, slowly. "Why do we need a restraining order?"

"Because Kenny."

"God, I wish your mom was here, all this guy talk is.. Well, it doesn't matter. Who's Kenny?"

Kurt sighed, because his dad wanted to talk to him about things, he was just finding it hard to adjust, but, hey, at least he was trying.

"Um," Kurt said. "Kenny is the guy who keeps calling and won't leave me alone."

"Why won't he leave you alone?"

"He wants to—um, he wants me to go out with him," Kurt settled finally, because telling your dad that a guy was pestering you because he wanted to get your pants off probably wasn't a wise move.

"So, why don't you?"

"Why don't I what?"

"Why don't you go out with him?"

"With Kenny?" Kurt exclaimed. He had to be kidding.

"Well, yeah," Burt shrugged a broad shoulder. "It might get your mind off the other guy—Blaine."

Kurt gaped at his dad. He could never get his mind off Blaine, not for a moment. He was pretty sure a quickie in the back of Kenny's car was not going to take his mind off Blaine, either. Besides, he didn't want a quickie in the back of Kenny's car. He wanted to put an axe through the back of Kenny's car and maybe through the front, too. Maybe if he removed the tires, then Kenny could bring a whole new meaning to bedrock. Maybe he could run with his feet out the bottom of the car, like in the Flintstones. Kurt shook his head. He was always imagining things that would never happen.

"No, dad," Kurt said, adamantly.

"Well, you're clearly beat up about it. Don't think I don't notice."

Because apparently his dad had super gaydar _and _could read minds.

"Dad, Kenneth Puckerman is an asshole," Kurt provided.

"Doesn't mean a thing," Burt told him and Kurt had been about to protest, but Burt went on. "The last guy you told me was an asshole ended up in your bed several times."

Kurt's jaw dropped and his dad laughed a little.

"You know, Kurt, I meant you let him stay in your room when he was drunk, but that expression tells me there's more to it."

Kurt stared after his dad, who had gotten up, given him an affectionate pat on the shoulder and then continued out the door.

Blaine had said much of the same thing, with regards to the whole 'asshole' issue. Blaine was all he thought about, really, but that didn't mean he wasn't mad at him. He was mad at everything. He was mad that Blaine would choose to take the fake path to the rest of his life, when he could have been honest. Sure, he had a lot of issues, what with his dad and the football team, but he would have gotten through them. Hell, Kurt would have been glad to help him. He didn't have to be with Quinn if he didn't want to, baby or not. Blaine had taken the cowards way out and Kurt did feel pity for him, in some respects, but now he was just mad.

He remembered how he had tried to warn him against having his heart broken, when it was impossible, because his heart was already in pieces. Blaine had told him he loved him, then left him. Blaine had kissed him, had said that he thought Kurt didn't want him, had acted as if he still wanted to be with him, but Blaine took the coward's way out and went with his head instead of his heart.

Kurt sighed and told himself he would regret it, but he did it anyway, because everything hurt. He pulled his phone out and hit the calls list, then pressed the green button and waited. A few moments later, a voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Kenny," Kurt said. "About meeting up tonight. Where did you have in mind?"

* * *

><p>"Why aren't you eating?" Blaine's dad demanded sternly from the end of the dinner table.<p>

"Yes, Blaine," his mom said, looking concerned. "You haven't touched your potatoes." His mom was having a good day, she was sort of bright and like she used to be before the depression had kicked in. Now, she only had good days once in a blue moon.

"Just tired," Blaine muttered. He wasn't lying, either. His stomach felt sick and he had a headache, from too much tension. At this rate, he was going to give himself a heart attack.

"Are you still doing that glee club nonsense?"

Blaine sighed and nodded, because trying to explain that it was not nonsense to his dad would only end in another violent brawl, which he did not need right now.

"That's why you're tired," he informed him, as if he was the possessor of all knowledge in the world. Blaine stayed silent.

"Are you still hanging around that faggot boy?"

Blaine's fist tightened around his cutlery and he pushed away the flaming ball that had suddenly swam into his stomach and was ready to erupt. "Yes," he said, because Blaine was hot-headed and wanted to irritate his father, even if that was probably the worst idea ever.

His dad slammed his knife and fork down, his mother flinching a little. He looked at Blaine, his expression filled with anger and disappointment and Blaine thought he might hit him again, but he didn't, he simply stood up and stormed out of the room, whispering something about him being a disgrace to the family.

Blaine frowned and looked across at his mom. She gave him a comforting smile and he smiled back weakly. Sometimes, he wished he would beat him so hard that he wouldn't wake up, but he had to live, because there was someone out there who wanted him to, who needed him to and that someone was not his unborn child. That someone had eyes the colour of the sky on a bright summer's day, like the glistening sea in the light of the sun, like a thousand stars exploding in orbit.

Blaine Anderson had to live if just to see those eyes look at him the way they used to.

* * *

><p>"Wh-what?" Kurt asked. The room was spinning and his vision was blurred and he just wanted to <em>sleep<em>. He had no idea where he was, or why he was there or who he had just been talking to. His head felt like a bicycle pump; like air was being compressed down into it and then slowly let out again.

He needed to close his eyes, if he closed his eyes, surely it would go away. He closed his eyes tight and then felt himself falling.

_Falling_

_falling_

_falling._

* * *

><p>In his dream, he was falling. He was plummeting down into oblivion and when he reached the bottom—assuming there was a bottom—he would be surrounded by nothingness.<p>

He didn't want to fall, even though it was a fun drop down, like flying, drifting through the air, the wind on his face, but he knew it would end badly, knew he would hit the ground, knew that when he reached the bottom, there would be no going back up again.

He didn't want to fall, so he opened his eyes.

* * *

><p>"Oh, God. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, oh, God."<p>

"I have been likened to a God in the bedroom, it's true." He stared down at the dark eyes looking up at him, the dark pits of cold, nothingness that didn't send any kind of electricity through his body, didn't cause his heart to leap, didn't make him feel alive. They were not the golden eyes he wanted.

Kurt felt dizzy, dizzy and afraid. And full of regret. He didn't remember a thing from the night before. He shut his eyes tight and then opened them again, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He took in the unfamiliar surroundings and felt the cool air on his bare skin. His pale skin blushed a bright crimson and he stood up too quickly, panicked and lost. He got his balance, then grabbed his clothes from the pile on the ground and ran as fast as he could into the bathroom.

His head was spinning wildly and his heart seemed to be running a race with it, to see which could go quickest. He dressed with lightning speed, not even caring that his shirt was inside out. He ran swiftly from the strange house and only stopped when he reached his car.

Kurt had won the race of who could run fastest, but that was all he had won.

* * *

><p>His mind was a whirl of thoughts, few of them made sense and the ones that did gave him a ripping headache. He tried to keep his shaking hands steady on the wheel. His insides seemed to be shaking along with them and he felt a dripping cold slipping down his spine and ending in a blood-curdling shudder and he just needed to shut his eyes and make it go away.<p>

He pressed his foot down on the pedal and he sped up, because this would bring him home sooner and once at home he could sleep it off and then when he woke up later on, he could try to make sense of it all, because at that moment, nothing made sense, nothing at all.

He deviated away from a corner and cursed under his breath, because this was easily the worst he had felt since his father's heart attack. He remembered feeling as if he could not drive fast enough, afraid that if he didn't hurry, his father wouldn't still be there when he arrived. He had felt like that only recently when he had driven in the late hours of the night to check on _him._

"Oh, God," he uttered, quietly and to himself. "Blaine."

And his heart contracted and he forgot to stop and the last thing he remembered was moving far too quickly, the scenery outside the window a blur of colour and light and he whispered one little word, before the darkness consumed him.

"_Blaine._"

* * *

><p><strong>DON'T HATE ME I'M SORRY. I'LL UPDATE TOMORROW, I'LL GET UP EARLY AND I'LL WRITE UNTIL I CAN WRITE NO MORE, BECAUSE I FEEL BAD. OKAY. DONE. LET ME KNOW!<strong>


	20. Chapter 20

**Just got this done, it's 7.30 AM, but I had to finish it, because I felt really bad about leaving off like I did. I own nothing. Thank you for the reviews, by the way, I reached 400 today! (And for the bad reviews I've gotten, in a couple of chapters, you don't actually have to keep reading. If it's honestly as bad as you think, then stop, because I wouldn't continue reading something I disliked so much.) In all though, the reviews have been amazing and I'm so grateful to all of you. Thank you so much!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 20:<strong>

"Emergency glee club meeting!" Rachel screeched as she ran past Blaine in the school halls. He turned and watched her go.

Rachel was always so dramatic. He considered not going, because he was not in the mood of listening to her panicking over her song choice for next week's assignment. However, Blaine had class with Kenny next, which he most definitely was not looking forward to. If an emergency glee meeting could get him out of that, he would endure fifty Rachels.

When he walked into the choir room, he saw that Kurt was not yet there. He didn't think anything of it as he went and sat in the back row by himself. Mercedes climbed in to the row in front of him and he hoped she wouldn't turn around and say anything about what she knew. He wasn't ready for that.

Rachel was standing at the front of the room, her hands on her hips. She looked impatient as the others began to take their seats, talking and surmising what the meeting might be about. Once everyone had taken their seat, Mr Schue, who was leaning against the piano, quietened the class down, then gave Rachel a nod. Blaine figured Kurt was not at school today. Also missing, was Quinn and also Puck.

"You may be wondering why we called you hear today," Rachel said, eyes sweeping over the students. "We are not just a glee club, we are a family and a family _cares_. You may notice that we are missing a member of our family today."

Everyone looked around, confusion on their faces. Rachel rolled her dark eyes.

"Okay," she said. "We are missing more than one member, but I meant a member who actually shows up."

Oh. She meant Kurt.

"As captain of this glee club, I volunteered to break this news as gently as possible. Unfortunately, Mercedes discovered something rather sad today," Rachel continued on. "I know this is interfering with our classes and that we—"

"Rachel," Mr Schuester said, warningly. "This is no time to get sidetracked."

"Of course," Rachel said. "However, I do think it should be first pointed out that—"

"Rachel!" Mercedes said, loudly and everyone's gaze fell on her. She paused a moment, then stood up. "I called Kurt this morning, guys, and his dad picked up and said he'd gotten into a car accident early this morning."

Blaine's heart went still. His mind was suddenly filled with a rush of scenarios, some bad, some awful, some he didn't even want to contemplate.

"Is—is he okay?" Tina asked, worriedly, next to Mike.

"His dad said he'll be okay. It wasn't a bad crash," Mercedes told them and Blaine wondered what kind of crash was a good crash. "He has a lot of bruising and a concussion, but he'll be okay. Rachel and I just tho—"

"We were thinking we could all go and see him at the hospital," Rachel cut in at the front of the room.

Mr Schue stood up straight and walked to stand next to Rachel, then. "Now, I understand a lot of you have a lot on with classes and might not be able to go," he announced. "But if you'd like to go, I asked coach Sylvester if we could borrow the Cheerios' bus, just for today and after a lot of prompting, she agreed."

"No, Mr Schue," Finn said, standing up. "Rachel's right, we are a family. We should all be there for Kurt."

Blaine looked around the room at the collective nods and then turned and nodded, too.

* * *

><p>No matter how many times Blaine had seen his father display extreme anger and abuse, he still got that flittering feeling all throughout the inside of his body. He felt as if every part of him had gone to mush and his hands shook and his head whirled and he couldn't think straight.<p>

Worrying about Kurt Hummel made him feel the exact same way.

He sat at the back of the bus by himself and scowled, because the last time he had sat at the back of a bus by himself, Kurt had come and sat with him. This time, however, Mercedes was coming towards him and the last thing he needed right now was her questioning him about the relationship they had once had.

"You came, too," she said, slipping into the seat next to him. He just nodded. "Because you wanted to get off class?" she asked.

Blaine looked offended, because this was _Kurt _they were talking about, Kurt who meant more to him than he cared to admit out loud. "No," he said, finally.

She watched him for what seemed like a long time, but could only have been about thirty seconds. Then she spoke, "You care about him, don't you?"

He felt the urge to deny it, but Mercedes already knew, he could see it in her eyes. He nodded, sighed and looked back at the seat in front of him.

"What happened?" he asked, quietly. "Why was he even driving early this morning?"

Mercedes shrugged. "No idea," she told him. "We'll have to ask him ourselves."

Blaine merely nodded again.

"Can I ask you a question?" He had been waiting for the questions to come, so he shrugged and waited. "If you still care about him and he still cares about you, why did you guys stop?"

"Because I have a girlfriend," Blaine told her, simply, like that was a valid answer.

Of course, Mercedes didn't believe this was a valid answer. "You had a girlfriend when you and Kurt slept together, too."

"It's.. It's complicated," he told her, which wasn't a lie. It _was _complicated.

They stayed silent for a long time and Blaine wished the stupid bus would hurry up because he just needed to see him, see that he was okay, just like Kurt had done for him.

"His dad said he's fine, Blaine," Mercedes soothed. "Don't worry."

"I can't help it," he said, before he could stop himself.

"I know," she nodded. "You know what Blaine?"

"What?"

"You're okay," she smiled next to him.

"Yeah," he said, returning her smile. "Yeah, so are you."

* * *

><p>Blaine couldn't go in. He felt like an idiot, but he couldn't go in, at least not with the others. He told them he would wait outside because he wasn't feeling well. Rachel had given him an incredulous look, but no one else had even blinked an eye. Except Mercedes, obviously. Mercedes gave him the sad almost-smile, before heading inside.<p>

Blaine sighed and sat down on the plastic chairs against the wall. All he wanted was to see Kurt, but he was afraid, afraid of what he might do. He didn't want to go in there with all of the glee club and Mr Schue and break down.

"Blaine, right?"

Blaine looked up and saw Burt Hummel, Kurt's dad coming towards him.

"Hi," Blaine said, simply.

Burt took a seat across the narrow hall. He was holding a paper coffee cup. He looked up at Blaine and Blaine couldn't get Kurt's words out of his head: _My dad figured it all out this morning. _Which meant that Burt Hummel was well aware of the relationship he had had with Kurt.

"You didn't go in with your friends?"

Blaine didn't bother to point out that they didn't really consider him a friend, because that wasn't the main point of the question. The question was why hadn't he gone in to see Kurt?

"I.. They don't know," he said, quietly, hoping that was enough.

Much to Blaine's relief, Burt nodded, knowingly. "You and Kurt," he said, then. "What's goin' on there?"

"Nothing, not any more," Blaine said, with a sigh. "We—we're just friends."

"Right," Burt nodded, again. "Were you using him?"

Blaine's eyes shot up and fell on Burt. "No," he said, quickly. "No, never. Kurt is—Kurt's one of the best people I know." _The best. _"I would never do anything to.." He had been going to say he would never do anything to hurt him, but he had already hurt Kurt, so that was a lie. "Kurt sort of—he means a lot to me," Blaine finished, dropping his gaze to the floor.

Burt seemed to stare at him for a long time. Blaine folded his hands together and stared at the patterns on the tiles. Then Burt spoke, "That bracelet." He pointed at Blaine's hand and reached into his pocket and produced something silver and gleaming. It was the bracelet Blaine had given Kurt. "They gave me this when they took him in," Burt went on, looking down at Blaine's wrist. "You've got one, too."

Blaine looked at Burt, who was staring at him, anticipating an explanation. "Um," Blaine stammered. "Kurt's birthday.. I, um," he cleared his throat and gestured towards the bracelet in Burt's hand. "And he, um.. It was my birthday a few days ago," he told Burt and pushed his sleeve away to reveal the bracelet. "He, um, gave me that in-in return."

He cursed his awkwardness, but Burt just nodded and then remained silent again.

"You wanna see him?" he asked after a while.

"Oh, I co—"

"I mean when they're gone," Burt clarified. "He doesn't look that awful, just a bit of bruising."

"I.. You wouldn't mind?" Blaine asked, surprised.

"Nah," Burt said and he leaned over and handed Blaine Kurt's bracelet. "I think he'd like to see you."

"Yeah," Blaine said, smiling a little. He took the bracelet from Burt and pressed it into the palm of his hand. "Yeah, I'd like to see him, too. Thank you."

* * *

><p>Kurt felt as if he had been hit over the head repeatedly with a hammer. His mouth tasted as if he had sucked on old copper pennies like they were breath mints and his ribs hurt like hell. It didn't help that had probably had sex with Kenny, either. He shuddered every time he thought of it.<p>

Now the glee club were there, all except Quinn, Puck and Blaine. The fact that Blaine wasn't there hurt him a little, but he kept quiet about it. Nobody had probably told him what had happened.

"How are you feeling, Kurt?" Mr Schuester asked, softly.

"Um, okay," he said.

"Christ, Hummel, you look like crap," Santana told him and he glared at her. In a way, he was glad Blaine didn't have to see him like this. He would have died of mortification.

"Kurt, what happened?" Finn asked.

"I don't know," he told him. "I just—I don't think I want to talk about it."

"That's perfectly fine, Kurt," Rachel said, taking the lead. "We have prepared a little number in your honour. Places people!"

Kurt smiled, affectionately and waited for Rachel to start singing.

* * *

><p>After the glee club had completed their rendition of "Keep Holding On", they had left and Kurt was alone again. He was still smiling and teary eyed from the performance, because it was possibly the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him in his entire life. No one had ever made him feel like he belonged.<p>

He lay there, staring at the cracked ceiling, his head still pounding and wondered if he would ever get over what had happened with Kenny. Before he had a chance to think further into it, the door opened again and Kurt expected to see his dad there, but the person that walked through was not his dad. He was small and dark and looked terrified.

"Blaine," Kurt breathed and tried to sit up too quickly, forgetting that his ribs and stomach were horribly bruised. He groaned a little and Blaine rushed forward looking as if he didn't know what to do with his hands. "I'm fine," Kurt told him, settling.

Blaine nodded and Kurt gestured to the soft chair next to the bed. Blaine sat down gingerly.

"So, um, you're here," Kurt said, because he had not been expecting this.

"Yeah," he said. "I couldn't come in with the others. I—your dad said I could wait and see you alone."

Kurt was caught between wanting to kill his dad for allowing Blaine to see him while his hair was flat and his face was wan and his eyes had bags under them, and wanting to hug him, because he had sent Blaine in here by himself to see him.

"Kurt," Blaine said, sitting forward. "What happened?"

Kurt shook his head, but Blaine gave him this look, urging him to tell him, a look that said _you know you can tell me anything,_ so Kurt exhaled and started talking.

"I went out with Kenny—"

"You did wha—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, over him. "Look, let me talk, okay?" Blaine nodded, but he didn't look all that happy about it. "I was mad at you. I know you have a lot to deal with, but it's almost like you want me, but you took the easy way out and went with Quinn. I get that you have a lot of pressure on you right now, but I just got mad, okay? And then you were telling me not to let him break my heart, when that was really rich coming from you, so I called him back and met up with him at Breadstix."

Kurt paused and took a deep breath, because Blaine was not going to like this next bit. He hadn't even told his dad any of this.

"Kurt—"

"I'm not done," he said. "So, the next thing I remember is-is waking up n-naked and in a strange room," he told him. "And he was there, beside me and he w-was naked, too and I panicked, because I don't remember _anything_. But I must have slept with him, mustn't I? I just—I wouldn't have, you know? I wouldn't do that. It just—none of it makes sense."

Blaine didn't look angry any more. He was watching him with sad, pitying eyes and Kurt hated that, he hated being the victim. He told Blaine as much and Blaine sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Look, we all mess up. I can't stand the guy and he probably took advantage of you while you were trying to deal with—with all this. I'll take responsibility for that and I'm going to have a strongly-worded conversation with him about it."

"You don't think I'm an idiot?"

Blaine shook his head and reached out and grabbed Kurt's wrist. Kurt watched as he pulled his bracelet from his pocket and looped it around his arm. He fastened the clasp, but didn't let go of his hand.

"We all do something we regret at some time or another," Blaine told him.

Kurt pulled his hand out of Blaine's grasp and tried to glare at him, but he just ended up looking stupid because that _hurt._ Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, confusion all over his face, his eyes studying him thoroughly, then he opened his mouth.

"Oh!" he said, as if he had just discovered gold. "Kurt, no. No, I didn't mean you. I meant Quinn. God. I didn't mean you, I swear—"

"Okay," Kurt said and he reached back across and took Blaine's hand in his own. Blaine ran his thumb across his knuckles and Kurt shivered, because that was the effect Blaine had on him. "Look, thanks for being here. You—you're a.. A good, um, friend."

It cut him in two to speak those words, because Blaine would never be his friend. There would always be that tension between them that existed between those who had once had a romantic relationship.

"Actually," Blaine said, tightening his grip on Kurt's hand. "I've been thinking and I wanted to talk to you about—"

Blaine was cut off, because the door opened once again. They dropped hands and looked guiltily up at the nurse, as if they had been doing something very wrong.

"Mr Hummel," the nurse said. "Is your father not here?"

"Um—"

"He went back to the garage to cancel appointments," Blaine added. "He said he'd be back in thirty minutes."

The nurse nodded and looked down at her clipboard, then back to Kurt.

"Mr Hummel, we just got the tests back and there was a fair amount of flunitrazepam in your system, which would explain your memory loss," she informed him. "Are you taking drugs, Kurt?"

Kurt gaped at her and Blaine did, too.

"What? No," Kurt shook his head, his heart thumping far too quickly. "I—No, never. I would never touch drugs," he told her.

She, however, did not look convinced. "Hmm, okay," she said, sceptically. "I'll have to inform your father."

Kurt nodded and watched her go, then looked up at Blaine, but Blaine had already stood up, his face twisted angrily.

"What are yo—"

"I'm going to kill him," Blaine told him. "Why is this not getting into your head? He drugged you and then he.. I'm going to fucking kill him."

"Blaine, calm down, we don't know that he—"

"Yes, we do!" Blaine said, voice raised. "Look, you've got to stop thinking everyone is just going to be nice, okay? You trusted me and look how that turned out! Now he... I—come here," Blaine said and he bent and kissed him, quickly, then pulled away. "I'll be back afterwards, I promise."

"Blaine, don't—"

"I have to," he said. "You don't get it, _I have to do this_. He needs to pay for what he's done. God, Kurt. You need to tell your dad, too, okay and then the police and—"

"The police?" Kurt exclaimed. "Blaine, we could have this all wrong," he objected, but he didn't even believe that himself. He knew Blaine was right, but he didn't want him to go and get in trouble for this, he didn't want people to think he was a victim, he didn't want to tell his dad that he may have been raped. He shook his head, because he didn't want to think about that.

"I'm paying every day for what I've done to you," Blaine told him in a hushed tone. "You might not think I am, but every day, I hurt like you wouldn't believe. I didn't think anyone could do anything to hurt you worse than I did, but now he—Kurt, I have to go over there, okay? Just.. I'll be back, okay? I'll be back."

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. It didn't matter either way, Blaine had already gone.

* * *

><p>Puck opened the door and Blaine walked quickly past him.<p>

"Where is he?" he demanded and Puck stared at him like he had three heads.

"Where's who? Anderson, what are y—"

"Kenny," Blaine clarified. "Where is your asshole cousin?"

Puck said nothing just gestured upstairs and Blaine headed straight up, his heart hammering in his chest. He pushed open the door to the bedroom that Kenny had always stayed in when he came over during the summer and inside, Kenny was sitting on the edge of the bed watching TV.

Blaine sprinted across the room and dragged Kenny up by the front of his shirt. Kenny was asking him what the hell he was doing, but he didn't care, he simply swung his arm back and punched him in the jaw. His blood was boiling, he couldn't remember the last time he had been this mad.

"What the fuck, Anderson?" Kenny spat and Blaine pushed him up against the wall.

"Is that how you get everyone to sleep with you, Kenny?" Blaine snarled. "You drug them and then you get to do whatever you want with them?"

"I never did—"

"Oh, but you did," Blaine intimated. "Because I have just come from the hospital and the test results revealed that Kurt Hummel has fucking Rohypnol soaring through his veins."

"Hospita—"

"You knew," Blaine told him, angrily. He pushed him harder against the wall and Kenny whined. "You fucking let him get in his car knowing he had that crap in his system. You let him drive away while he wasn't in his right mind. God, you're lucky he got out of this physically unscathed, or _you_ would find yourself in a hospital bed."

"I didn't touch him," Kenny protested and Blaine pushed him back. "Dude, I swear, I didn't touch him."

"Then why would you drug him, you asshole?" Blaine laughed, cruelly. "You just thought you'd drug him and take him back to your room, strip him bare and just put him in your bed? Because, frankly, Kenny, I'm not seeing the sense here."

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes, that's what I did," Kenny told him, his dark eyes filled with worry. "Look, I just—yeah, I wanted to sleep with him, but I wouldn't—I mean, I would never _rape _him."

Blaine gave him a bewildered look.

"I just figured if he thought he had slept with me once, he'd do it again, you know?"

Blaine stared at him. He was telling the truth.

"Oh my God," Blaine said. "Oh, God, you're serious? What the fuck? Puck is the smartest member of your family, holy shit."

"Can you let me go?"

Blaine looked up at him. "No," he said. "No, I can't, because you still drugged him. You still drugged him and he still crashed into a tree and his ribs are still bruised and his wrist is still sprained and his fucking head is still fucking spinning, so, no, I can't let you go. The only time I will be letting you go is when the cops come in here to cuff you."

* * *

><p>"Oh, thank God," Kurt said, breathing a sigh of relief after Blaine had told him the truth. "You're sure?"<p>

"I'm sure," Blaine smiled. "He was definitely telling the truth."

"I should tell my da—"

"I told him before I came in here," Blaine said. "He was still beyond angry, which is understandable, but he knows."

Kurt smiled and watched as Blaine took his hand again. He thought about pulling away, because he was going to have to go back to Quinn and the football team and all of that, but he just wanted to have this one moment, just for a little while, so he didn't let go.

"So, um, when do you get out of this place?" Blaine enquired.

"They said in the morning, they want to keep me in overnight, just for precaution," Kurt rolled his eyes and Blaine smiled. Then his smile faded.

"I was so scared when I heard this had happened to you," he told Kurt, quietly, his golden-brown eyes locked with Kurt's sky blue ones. "All I wanted to do was fix it. I—I'm just so glad you're okay."

Kurt felt his stomach filling with butterflies and he smiled across at Blaine. "Didn't know you cared," he teased.

"Are you kidding me?" Blaine asked, eyes widening. "Really? You don't think I care?"

Kurt shrugged a bit. "I don't know," he told him. "I never really know what you're thinking in that head of yours."

"Usually about you," Blaine uttered, a little bashfully.

Kurt simply stared at him, wondering if he meant it. He looked like he meant it, his eyes were still level with Kurt's and he was still tracing invisible designs across Kurt's hand with his fingers.

"Um," Kurt spoke up, then. "Earlier, before the nurse came in, you said you wanted to talk to me about something. What was it?"

Blaine nodded, quickly. "Oh," he said. "Oh, yeah. I—tomorrow! Can I talk to you tomorrow? You know, once you're out of here?"

Kurt nodded and wondered what he wanted to talk about that required them being some place else. "Sure," he said. "Whatever you want."

"Think you're strong enough to come over to my place?" Blaine asked. "I'll pick you up and take you home and you'll be totally safe, I promise."

Kurt chuckled and his ribs ached, feeling as if someone was prodding at them with a cricket bat. He tried to remain calm about it, but it really hurt and he closed his eyes tight for a second.

"Are you—"

"I'm fine," Kurt said, looking back at Blaine, who was half way out of his chair. "I'm fine, sit down." Blaine sat, but he didn't look any less concerned. "Yes, I'll come over to yours tomorrow," Kurt told him and Blaine nodded.

"Okay," he smiled, slightly. "Okay, it's a date."

* * *

><p>Blaine stopped his car outside Kurt's house the next day and walked up the driveway and knocked on the door. He figured Kurt would need some help getting around, because he was badly bruised and in a lot of pain. Burt opened the door and gave him a smile.<p>

"Nice to see you again, Blaine," he greeted him, standing back and allowing him space to walk inside.

He closed the door and shouted to Kurt that Blaine was here.

"That Kenny kid," Burt said. "They put him on probation."

"Is that all?" Blaine asked, feeling his blood running faster in his veins.

"Yep," Burt said. "He's still a minor, so there isn't a lot they can do."

"Still, it's not fair," Blaine sighed.

"I know," Burt agreed,

"Stop complaining and open the door for me."

Blaine looked across the room at Kurt, standing there clutching his stomach, his face twisted painfully. Blaine smiled, because he looked like himself again. he was wearing the sequined vest and the tight pants and the intricately designed boots and his hair was coiffed and styled the way he always had it.

Blaine opened the front door and watched as Kurt walked slowly towards it, a scowl on his pale face.

"Call me if you need me, okay, Kurt?" Burt said, walking towards the door.

"I'll be fine, dad," Kurt sighed and stepped outside. Blaine followed him and they said goodbye to his dad.

"You okay?" Blaine asked.

"I'm fine," Kurt said. "Just get me out of here. I know he means well, but if I get offered another can of soda or a sandwich, I might be forced to pull my hair out."

"Oh, we wouldn't want that," Blaine chuckled and opened the passenger door of his car.

"This must be very important if you're making a cripple leave his warm bed to go to your house," Kurt said, once inside. Blaine closed the door and went around the other side. He got in, too and fastened his belt. Kurt was muttering obscenities under his breath as he clipped his own belt in.

"Are you done complaining?" Blaine asked in amusement.

"Not by a long shot, let's go."

* * *

><p>"I'm leaving her."<p>

Kurt stared at Blaine, unsure of what to say.

"I said I'm leaving her," Blaine repeated.

"Yeah, I got that," Kurt nodded." Can you clarify who you mean by 'her' and what you mean by 'leaving'? Because I kind of can't believe my ears."

"I," Blaine said, clearly. "Am breaking up with Quinn."

* * *

><p><strong>I will try to get another chapter done tomorrow, because I'm not sure I'll have time on Sunday, my sister has a dancing competition. So, I'll try push myself to get the next one done tomorrow. Let me know what you think and hopefully the cricket bats have been put down and you all don't hate me as much now :P x<strong>


	21. Chapter 21

**I own nothing! Wrote this as quickly as I could and now it's 7.30am again and I have to be up early and whatever, it's all good. Alrighty, hopefully this makes up for the horrible-ness I put you through :P**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21:<strong>

"No," Kurt said, with a shake of his head. "No, you're not."

Blaine stared at him for a couple of heartbeats, his lips parted. "Um," he uttered. "Yes, I am."

Blaine watched as Kurt shook his head again. He was taking deeper breaths and looking around the room as if he had no idea where he was.

"Why?"

"Why? Why what?"

"Why the sudden change? Why now?" Kurt clarified. "Why are you telling me?"

"Um, I thought about what you said, about her being pregnant not meaning we had to stay together forever. I can't be with her," Blaine informed him. "And as for why I'm telling you, I thought you would want to know."

"Be-because we're friends?" Kurt offered.

Blaine shook his head. He was bad at expressing his feelings, he hadn't done it much throughout his life. He cleared his throat and sat up straight, then looked Kurt right in those azure eyes.

"I don't want to be your friend, Kurt," Blaine told him. "And I know I've been an idiot and I've made terrible decisions and I haven't been sure about what I was doing, or where I'm going, but I've been completely sure about one thing throughout this whole thing," he said.

"What?" Kurt asked and his voice came out timidly.

Blaine took a deep breath, then exhaled for a long time. His heart was racing and he felt like he might fall over, but he had to do this.

"You," he uttered and his voice came out uneven and a little broken. "You and how I feel about you. In the beginning, I was scared, because I had never felt like this about anyone—not about Quinn, or anyone else. So, yeah, I was scared, probably more scared than I've ever been, so I shoved it away—or I _tried_ to shove it away. I didn't want to feel what I was feeling, because that's not who I'm supposed to be," he paused, then corrected himself. "That's not who _they _think I'm supposed to be, I mean. But I'm done pushing my feelings away. I can't go on being with her when you're all I think about."

Kurt was staring at him, blue eyes wide and glistening. Blaine watched as he parted his lips to form words, but none came, he simply let out a shaky breath. His lips were that pale, fleshy pink nearest the inside of his mouth, but every other part of them were a vibrant shade of rose, as if he had bitten them repeatedly.

Blaine didn't stop himself when he leaned across to place a gentle kiss on those gasped a little as Blaine's mouth closed down over his and then he was kissing him with more passion and Blaine felt what he always felt when he was close to Kurt; He felt some kind of blue electricity soaring through his veins and he knew this was right, that everything about Kurt was right.

Blaine pressed the palm of his hand down on Kurt's shoulder and pushed him gently backwards, but Kurt winced and pulled away.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," Blaine breathed. "I—I forgot. Shit. Are you okay?"

Kurt was clutching his stomach, his eyes closed. "Yeah," he choked out. "It's not your fault, don't worry."

Blaine cursed himself. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Kurt again. He was about to apologise, but Kurt began talking.

"So, you're really leaving her?" he asked, letting go of his stomach. "I mean, have you thought this through?"

Oh, he had thought it through all right, it was all he could think about. Quinn meant nothing to him, it was sad, but true. He could not envision a life with her, he couldn't even envision another week with her. Hell, he didn't care, he'd visit the baby, still be its dad, but that didn't mean he had to be with Quinn.

"Definitely," he confirmed. "Does it make me a bad person if I dump her?"

Kurt shook his head and straightened his back a little. "No," he told him. "It just means you're finally coming into yourself. Told you you'd get there," Kurt grinned, but Blaine could still tell he was in pain.

Blaine sighed and fell back on the bed. "Still a long way to go," he muttered.

"Yeah," Kurt said, looking down at him with those incredible eyes. "But this is a huge step, so I have faith in you."

"Thanks," he murmured. He didn't even have faith in himself. He sat up, then and a couple of minutes of silence passed.

Kurt spoke first, "So, uh, what do you want to do?"

Blaine shrugged and said the first thing he could think of. "Wanna watch some TV?"

Kurt smiled, all-teeth and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, okay. What's the last thing you watched?"

Blaine felt his cheeks tinting red and dropped his gaze from Kurt's blue eyes. "You'll laugh," he said.

"No, I won't!" Kurt protested. Then he was reaching for the remote control and Blaine tried to grab it, but Kurt held it close to him. "I'm badly bruised, remember? Tackle me for this and I might break."

Blaine glared at him, but he was smiling. "Fine," he said, moving back to sit with his back against the headboard. "There goes any chance of you ever taking me seriously again."

"What makes you think I ever took you seriously?" Kurt quipped, before moving to sit next to Blaine.

It took him a little while and Blaine offered to help, but he declined, said he could do it by himself, so Blaine let him. Finally, he sat up next to him and pointed the remote towards Blaine's widescreen. The screen came to life and Kurt pressed the play button and the last episode of Pokémon that Blaine had been watching started to play.

Kurt turned to look at him.

"Go ahead, laugh," Blaine urged.

"You," Kurt said, smiling, but not laughing. "Are full of surprises."

"I told you that on day one, remember?" Blaine reminded him. "Anyway, you can put whatever you want on, I'm easy."

"That so?" Kurt teased and Blaine blushed. "Let's watch this," Kurt said, hitting the volume button and the Pokémon theme song got louder.

"We don't have to."

"No, let's. I haven't seen this in forever," Kurt said, sitting back with a smile.

Blaine smiled at him and sat back, too, their arms brushing a little. It was hard for Blaine to concentrate on the show with Kurt so close by. He could feel his body heat and he had to stop himself from reaching across for his hand, because he didn't want to make it awkward.

Kurt would say something about the show every few minutes and Blaine would laugh and agree, but he didn't really know what was going on. It occurred to him then that they had never really done anything like this. Most of their time together had consisted of Blaine complaining and whining about his not-so-perfect life and then sex. This was nice, different, he just wished he wasn't feeling as nervous as he was.

A few minutes later, Kurt's hand was over his. He glanced sideways, but Kurt was staring straight ahead at the TV. Blaine looked down at their hands and hoped he couldn't feel the small shakes that were erupting through his body.

He wondered briefly what would happen if his dad came home and walked in to find them like this. It couldn't go well. He frowned, then, because thinking about his dad always made him frown. He couldn't help thinking about how his dad would react once he found out he had broken up with Quinn. And there was also the baby issue..

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked, knocking him out of his reverie.

Blaine looked up. "Um, nothing," he emitted. "I—nothing. It's cool."

Kurt looked less than convinced. His gaze lingered on Blaine for what seemed like a long time, then looked back at the TV. He kept glancing sideways at him, so Blaine tried to look ensconsed in the show.

He lost his composure about five minutes later, because his mind began to drift. He knew there was no way he was going to change his mind about leaving Quinn. He was definitely going to do this. He just wished there weren't consequences, which, again, made him a coward, but he couldn't help it. He was afraid and anxious and he felt like doing something that required a lot of energy, like running, or something, because he had a lot of building tension that he needed to get rid of.

Blaine came back down to earth when he felt a light pressure against the back of his hand. He turned to look at Kurt with a quizzical expression.

"You were shaking," Kurt apprised him.

"Oh," Blaine said, bewilderment laced in his voice.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Kurt enquired and Blaine gave him a nod and a smile.

Within minutes, they were watching the TV in silence again and Kurt's fingers were stroking Blaine's hand, sending little volts all along his skin. He swallowed hard and remembered how it had felt to have Kurt's fingers on other more intimate areas of his body. He groaned silently, because getting horny now would be a travesty. Kurt had been through a lot and they weren't even doing that any more.

Still, he couldn't help remembering the last time they had been together in an intimate way. He remembered how Kurt's touch had been so gentle that it made him feel like doing something crazy, because this boy could not be real. He thought about how he had stroked his hair afterwards, how he had smiled down at him, his smile visible in those shining eyes. He remembered how he had made love to him and how his heart had felt beating against his chest and how he had moaned into his mouth and how he had held him and made him feel like he was wanted for more than just his status.

Blaine felt his heart go still for a split second and his body went rigid. Then he was shaking and his stomach was turning and his jaw went slack. He didn't notice Kurt muting the TV and turning to look at him with concern in those cyan eyes. He didn't hear him asking if he was okay, because it had finally hit him. He'd already known, of course, but he couldn't ever bring himself to say it, or even give it deep thought, but now..

He felt it then, the warm, slow stream of tears slipping from the corners of his eyes and running down his cheeks and he did nothing to stop them. This was the first time he had cried since he was about fourteen and he felt his heart beat speeding up as he remembered he wasn't supposed to cry. However, there was nothing he could do to stop it now, plus, it felt sort of good to finally let it all out.

Nevertheless, there was still something heavy pressing down on his shoulders and he needed to get rid of that.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't know what to do. He thought about putting his arms around him, but he was scared that would make things worse.<p>

"Blaine," he said, softly, as Blaine broke into large sobs. "Blaine, shh. What? What is it?"

"I—I just.." he trailed off and buried his head in his hands.

"Okay," Kurt said, placing a hand on his back and rubbing small circles over it. "Okay, calm down. Tell me what's wrong."

Blaine looked up at him, through his bright, glistening eyes, tears still spilling from them. Kurt remembered what Blaine had said to him when he had cried in front of him. _You're one of those people who look really, really pretty when they cry. _He hadn't really understood it at first, but now he knew, because despite the sniffling and the tear stained face, Blaine looked beautiful. When he cried, his eyes turned this almost jade green, but somehow, Kurt could still see shades of orange and brown and maybe even red. His eyes were red-rimmed and his chest was convulsing a little and his lips were swelled and a brighter red than Kurt had ever seen them.

"I'm gay, Kurt," Blaine choked out, voice breaking. "I—I'm gay."

Kurt felt his own heart speeding up at that and he nodded.

"I know," he said and he moved closer, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach. "I know you are," he whispered and then Blaine was moving towards him and sobbing into the crook of his neck, his arms going gently around him.

It took Kurt a few minutes to get used to the pressure against his ribs and then he simply wrapped Blaine up in his arms and stroked his hair back from where it had stuck to his forehead.

"Shh," Kurt said, softly. "It's okay, it'll be okay."

"I'm gay," Blaine wept into Kurt's neck. "I'm gay."

"I know," Kurt told him again. "I know and everything will be okay, I promise."

* * *

><p>Blaine had no idea how one moment he had been slobbering into Kurt's neck (which smelled really good, by the way), and then the next, he was placing hungry kisses along his jaw until he reached his mouth. He was so scared hurting him, but he just wanted to be close to him.<p>

Fortunately, Kurt began tugging Blaine forward and then Kurt was flat on his back and Blaine was trying to kiss him without hurting him, but Kurt pulled him so that he was on top of him. Blaine saw him flinch a little and he attempted to pull back, but Kurt wouldn't let him go.

"I'm okay," he assured him, kissing him once. "If we're just laying like this, I'll be okay."

Blaine wasn't convinced, but Kurt pulled him forward again and slipped his tongue through Blaine's teeth. Blaine allowed himself to get deeper into the kiss and then Kurt was slipping a knee between his legs and Blaine was moaning into his mouth.

"Ungh," Blaine pulled back a little. "I don't—I don't want to hurt you."

Kurt reached up and placed a warm hand on Blaine's cheek. "I'm okay," Kurt ensured him. "Honestly, I'm okay."

"It's just that I—"

He stopped talking because Kurt's mouth had caught his again and this time he sighed into the kiss, because Kurt really did seem okay. He tried not to make too many movements, which was difficult when Kurt's was slipping his knee back and forth between Blaine's thighs. Blaine felt Kurt's warm finger tips on the patch of skin on his lower back where his shirt had slid up.

"I don't thi—"

"Blaine," Kurt whispered against his lips and Blaine's whole body shivered. "It's okay."

Blaine didn't have a chance to protest, because Kurt's hands were trailing lower and pressing against his ass. He didn't have it in him to put a stop to it now. Blaine rucked Kurt's shirt up around his waist, along with the vest and eased them gently over his head. He stopped still, then and sat back a little.

"Kurt," he breathed looking down at the other boy's torso. It was covered in large purplish-red bruises and they stood out even more because of his milky-white skin.

"It looks bad, I know," Kurt told him, his hands resting on Blaine's hips. "But it doesn't hurt as much as you'd think."

Blaine couldn't bear it if he hurt him again. He began climbing off of Kurt. "Maybe we should st—"

"Blaine," Kurt groaned a little. "I don't want to stop."

Blaine stopped moving and looked down at him, his eyes dilated and filled with something Blaine could not place. "Are you sure?"

"More than sure," Kurt nodded and he slipped the top button on Blaine's jeans through the little loop.

"Okay," Blaine uttered and eased himself back down, gently, on top of Kurt.

Kurt sucked Blaine's bottom lip into his mouth, as he unzipped him and pushed his jeans as far down as he could from the angle he was in. Then he was sliding Blaine's shirt upwards and Blaine lifted his arms to help him. Soon, Blaine had removed Kurt's pants (after a bit of a struggle—they were just _so tight_) and Kurt was palming Blaine's erection through the thin material of his briefs.

"Kurt," Blaine almost hissed. "Kurt, how do we.. I don't want to hurt you, I—"

"It'll be okay," Kurt whispered against his lips again.

He kissed him and Blaine felt Kurt's hands slipping down past the waistband of his underwear and then this fingers were rubbing circles over his ass. Blaine moaned a little when Kurt's hands disappeared to push away the briefs. He arched himself up a little to allow him space and then he kicked them off and he was completely naked.

Blaine kissed Kurt once more before sliding down Kurt's body. He hooked his fingers into the elasticated band at the top and peeled them off revealing his hard cock. Blaine took it in his hands and Kurt tried to sit up a little.

"You don't have to move," Blaine said, kissing the inside of Kurt's thigh. "Just relax, okay?"

Kurt muttered something, but Blaine didn't hear him, he simply lowered his mouth down over Kurt's erection and sucked it once. He heard Kurt let out a moany gasp. Blaine licked a wet line all along the underside of Kurt's cock and then sucked the head into his mouth and Kurt was making those sounds again and God, he was gorgeous.

Blaine licked down the side very slowly, sending small whining sounds out of Kurt's mouth. Then he lowered his mouth down and stretched his lips around it and sucked on it for a while. Kurt's ankles were thrashing a little and Blaine had to place a hand on either of them to keep him from knocking his teeth out.

"Oh, God, Blaine," Kurt said, voice raspy.

Blaine pulled his mouth off and Kurt moaned at the loss. Blaine raised Kurt's hips a little with his hands, carefully, as not to hurt him, then he pulled his legs a little further apart to reveal his opening. Blaine had wanted to do this for the longest time. He took a deep breath, then lowered his lips down to the tight hole and ran his tongue over it once, an experimental taste.

It was strange, not bad, just strange, because he had his tongue on someone else asshole. He did it again and pulled back and Kurt was groaning every time he stopped. So, finally, he lowered his mouth back down and kept it there, flicking his tongue over it and then pushing the tip as far through as he could get it.

"Fuck," Kurt gasped out.

Blaine removed his mouth and instead, pushed the tip of his finger over Kurt's now wet hole. He worked it in, past the first ring of muscle and Kurt was wincing a little, because he wasn't nearly stretched open enough. Blaine used his mouth again, then repeated the action with his finger and after a while he was moving three fingers in and out freely and Kurt was pushing himself down over them, even though Blaine had told him not to move. He didn't want him to hurt himself.

"Kurt, I just don't want to hurt you," he told him, moving up so that he could see his face.

"You won't," Kurt said and he pushed himself up into a seated position. Blaine saw him grimace at the pain, but he didn't stay like that for long. He flipped himself over onto his stomach and arched his back so that his ass was a little higher than the rest of him.

"You sure?" Blaine asked, inching himself closer, his erection throbbing at the sight of Kurt spread out like that.

"Yeah, come on, I'm fine," Kurt said, his head in the pillows.

"Don't make any sudden moves, okay?" he said. "And for God's sake, don't lean on the sprained wrist."

"Fine," Kurt sighed, but Blaine could hear him smiling.

Blaine moved closer and wet his hand a little, before rubbing it on his cock a couple of times. He pressed the head of his hard-on to Kurt's stretched entrance and then pushed himself slowly inside. Kurt groaned into the pillows and Blaine stopped still.

"I'm fine! Keep going!" Kurt demanded, voice muffled.

Blaine wasn't sure, but he pushed forward anyway and then stopped when Kurt cried out again. He saw Kurt's head tilting around to give him a disapproving look. Blaine pushed in the rest of the way and then stopped again to give them both time to get used to the tightness.

"Ready," Kurt told him after a while.

Blaine grabbed onto Kurt's hips and pulled his own hips back a little. He groaned a little at the sensation, then pushed himself back in, quickly.

"God," Kurt muttered.

Blaine repeated that a few times and then Kurt was telling him to go faster.

"Stop acting like I'm going to break," he choked out.

Blaine apologised and started to push in and out of him faster, his body clammy with sweat and heat and then Kurt was trying to lift his hips and Blaine could tell it was hurting him, so he pushed them back down, gently and Kurt moaned a little and Blaine just wanted to listen to him making that sound over and over again.

"Close," Blaine muttered, because he wanted to give Kurt a heads up. Kurt didn't reply, just made some kind of sound that Blaine couldn't have put a name to.

Blaine felt the familiar tightening in his stomach and began pumping himself in and out harder and faster and Kurt's body was shaking with his movements and Blaine just didn't want to hurt him. He tried to make it happen quickly, so that it would be over and Kurt wouldn't have to endure the pain. It wasn't long before he was coming inside him and Kurt was _whimpering _and Blaine was crying out and he rode out the orgasm.

He pulled himself out and turned Kurt gently. Kurt's eyes were closed and his chest was rising and falling quickly and he was still sporting an erection. Blaine reached down and pumped his hand back and forth on Kurt's cock and Kurt was making little 'mm' sounds and soon, he was coming, too, his come covering Blaine's hand and his own chest. Blaine fell down next to him and they stayed like that, just breathing for a long time.

"Are—are you okay?" Blaine managed.

Kurt sighed, with exasperation and he eased himself over so that he could kiss Blaine again. "I'm fine," he said, once he had pulled back. "I'm covered in—well. I feel disgusting, but I'm fine."

Blaine chuckled and kissed him again, because he could do that now that he going to finish with Quinn.

"What about you?" Kurt asked, then. "Are you okay? I mean, after you kind of came out to me, to yourself?"

"I actually feel so much better," Blaine told him, truthfully. It felt as if a weight had been lifted. He still had a lot going on, but that had helped.

"Good," Kurt grinned and then he yawned. "Think i could just stay here tonight?"

"Up to you," Blaine told him.

"I'll go if you want me to—"

"I didn't mean that," Blaine told him. "I just meant—yeah. Yeah, stay. I want you to."

"Sure?"

"Yes," Blaine told him. "I've missed kissing you, talking to you, all that."

"Me, too," Kurt smiled, his eyes half-lidded. "I'll call my dad and tell him I'm staying, okay?"

"Okay, I'll go get a towel, or something," Blaine said, pushing himself up off the bed. He threw Kurt's phone to him. "You don't even have to move."

Kurt snorted. "I leave my own house because I'm getting treated like a dying man and then I come here and you don't let me move."

"Moving," Blaine informed him with a smirk. "Is overrated."

Kurt laughed and then clutched his ribs. "You weren't saying that ten minutes ago when you were moving above me."

"You've got a filthy mouth, Kurt Hummel," Blaine quipped back.

"It has its uses," Kurt told him as he started dialling his dad's number.

Blaine went into the bathroom and cleaned himself off, then walked back outside and threw a towel at Kurt.

"What'd you tell him?"

"That I had sex with you and now I'm exhausted," Kurt said, taking the towel and grimacing down at his chest.

Blaine stared at him open-mouthed.

"Oh, relax," Kurt said. "I told him we were watching a movie and it won't end until later, so I'm just going to stay. He was fine. Which side do you sleep on?"

Blaine went and took the towel from him. "Um, you can sleep whichever side you want."

"I know, but I'm just curious," Kurt informed him.

"Um, the right," Blaine provided.

"Okay," Kurt said and he climbed carefully into the bed and lay down on the right hand side. Blaine gave him a bewildered expression. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

Blaine shook his head, then went and switched off the light and the TV, then he went and climbed in next to Kurt. Kurt eased himself onto his side so that they faced one another.

"When are you going to do it?" Kurt asked and Blaine knew what he meant.

"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll talk to her after school."

"And you're sure?" Blaine gave him a look. "Okay, so you're sure," Kurt nodded in the light of the moon. "What about us?"

Blaine sighed, because he didn't know. He reached across and grabbed Kurt's hand. "Do you remember the day Quinn told me she was pregnant and we had that really angry, emotional sex?"

Kurt spluttered. "Quite vividly, actually."

Blaine nodded. "Do you remember before that I told you I love you?"

Kurt made no jokes this time, he simply nodded, smile fading.

"I meant it," Blaine informed him. "I do, I love you."

"Okay," Kurt said, slowly.

"And I'm going to ask you this because I'm still an idiot," Blaine began. "First of all, do you want to be with me?"

Kurt didn't miss a beat. "Yes."

"Okay," Blaine nodded, relief flooding his body. "Okay, good. Look, I'm still afraid, I don't know when I'll ever not be afraid. I don't know if I can face up to everyone and everything and my dad and all that. I don't know how to handle all that, I'm confused and scared and a bunch of other stupid things. So, I'm just going to ask you. Would you be willing to be with me without telling anyone else—"

"Blaine—"

"I'm not done," Blaine said, softly. "If you're not, okay. I'll do it. I'll come out, I'll tell everyone, because I want you, I do. I just—I know it'll be hard. I—it's not fair of me to ask you to do this. No. I'll just come out, screw it."

Kurt was quiet for a minute, then spoke. "Don't come out if you're not ready," he said. "I don't want you to come out just because of me."

"It's not right unless I do, Kurt."

"You're not ready," Kurt told him. "I can tell. I've been there, remember? I get it. And I know what your dad is like, so just.. Just don't. At least not now. Wait until you're ready, wait until the time is right for you. I'll still be here."

"Kurt, I don—"

"I refuse to be with you if you come out," Kurt said, firmly. "I'm not going to be the thing to force you out when you're not ready, so it's either in secret, or it's nothing."

"Why?"

Kurt sighed and inched closer. Blaine could feel his breath on his skin. "You broke down and cried when you told me. Blaine, you've only just come to terms with this yourself. You're not ready, I know you're not, you don't have to pretend with me, remember?"

Blaine nodded a little. He was right, but he didn't want him to commit to this with him if he wanted a full-on, public relationship.

"I'm fine with us just being like this," Kurt smiled. "More than fine, actually."

"Kurt, is there—"

"Please," Kurt said. "I'm asking you not to do this. I don't want to be the reason you felt like you had to come out because of. I don't want you to wind up hating me when you have to deal with all the crap. So, please, just wait a while. Until you're ready."

"I could never hate you," Blaine whispered.

"Let's not find out, okay?" Kurt said, pressing a hand to Blaine's chest, just above his heart. "I thought you said you missed kissing me."

"I do."

"Then quit talking and kiss me."

"I said I missed talking to you, too," Blaine pointed out and Kurt sighed and then he kissed him and Blaine didn't protest, he just went ahead and kissed him back.

He promised himself then, that some day, he would be brave enough to kiss him in public.

* * *

><p><strong>Not sure if I'll get to update tomorrow, I'll be out all day. I'll try get one up Monday. <strong>

**[Anyone who reviewed and thought I meant them regarding the bad reviews, it was none of you, I swear! :)**

**And the girl reviewing in Spanish, I would reply to you, but you're reviewing anonymously, but thank you so much!]**

**Let me know what you think! :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**(I own nothing!) I am so so so sorry for the long wait. I got home late on Sunday and then I had to go out Monday, so I did this today. I'll try not to leave it so long again :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 22:<strong>

Something pressed down over his body and a dull pain shot across his ribs and he woke with a start and a small groan. He felt the mattress shifting beneath him and the covers shuffled next to him and then a shadow was looming over him and he blinked his eyes open.

"I'm sorry," a shaky voice said. "Damn. Are you okay?"

Kurt looked up at Blaine's concerned expression and smiled a little. "I'm fine," he told him. "You just surprised me, that's all."

Blaine nodded and his dark curls bobbed a bit. He settled back down and fell onto his side. He propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Kurt, face still a mask of worry. Kurt lay there breathing as the pain decreased across his stomach.

"Can I..?" Blaine gestured towards Kurt's stomach and Kurt gave him a confused look, unsure of what he was asking, then he nodded, mostly because he was curious.

Kurt watched as Blaine reached up and gently tugged the covers down, until his entire upper body was on show. Kurt shivered, even though it wasn't cold. It was just that Blaine was blinking those long, dark lashes, as his copper gaze roved over his pale chest and all Kurt could do was stare back at him, trying to read what he was thinking.

"Don't.." Kurt gasped, quietly, when Blaine's right hand raised up and moved towards him.

"I wouldn't hurt you," Blaine told him, softly. "At least, not intentionally."

Kurt frowned, because Blaine was still beating himself up over everything that had occurred between them. He wanted to tell him it was okay, that he should forget about it, and he almost did, but he stopped himself, because what had happened wasn't okay and he shouldn't forget about it, at least not just yet. Blaine needed to remind himself of who he was and who he had once been and those memories were what would show him who he wasn't supposed to be.

Blaine's cool finger tips brushed slowly across Kurt's ribs and Kurt held his breath. He was docile, gentle, his fingers tracing over the ugly, pinkish-purplish, blotchy bruises. Kurt let out his breath with a quiet whimper when Blaine's fingers moved over his nipple and Blaine whispered a low 'sorry'. Kurt wanted to tell him not to apologise, that it hadn't been a bad whimper, but he didn't say anything, because he wasn't sure Blaine was apologising for just that.

Kurt blinked up at Blaine, who still had his eyes locked on Kurt's blemished torso. He had moved his hand and it was now lightly stroking Kurt's upper arm. Kurt shivered and felt goose bumps raising on his arms. He hoped Blaine would just think it was as a result of the cool air.

"I just want to take your pain away," Blaine told him, eyes finding Kurt's.

"Oh, I'll be okay," Kurt told him with a small smile.

"I know, you will," Blaine said. "But I wish we could go back, make sure none of the hurt ever happened."

Kurt eyed him for a minute. "Are we still talking about the bruising?" Blaine shrugged one shoulder, the right one, and sighed, tiredly. Kurt changed the subject then, because Blaine looked pained, his eyes sad. "So, today is the day."

Blaine nodded. "Yep," he affirmed. "I just want it over and done with."

"Think she'll cry?"

"No," Blaine chuckled. "No, she might hit me, though."

Kurt laughed then and it hurt, really hurt. He realised then that his entire body was aching, particularly his ass, because of obvious reasons. He grabbed his stomach and made a noise that sounded like an animal in pain and Blaine sat up a little, looking worried.

"Relax," Kurt choked out. "It's okay, it's just—If we're going to do this, you need to do me a favour."

"Anything," Blaine supplied.

"Buy a God damned bottle of lube."

* * *

><p>Blaine's body covered one side of Kurt's body and he didn't seem to be in a lot of pain any more. Blaine kissed him, slowly and carefully, because he didn't want to hurt him any more than he already had. His bruises looked severe and angry and made Blaine want to hurt Kenny some more. Then he forgot about Kenny, because Kurt's tongue was slipping through his teeth and his hands were tracing patterns across his back.<p>

"Hmmph."

"What?" Blaine breathed into Kurt's mouth. "Did I—did I hurt you?"

"No," Kurt said, flicking his tongue over his top lip. Blaine shuddered. "It's just—we should probably go."

"We should," Blaine smiled and pressed his mouth down over Kurt's again. Kurt sighed against his lips, giving in.

They stayed like that, just exploring each other's mouths, until a creaking noise sounded behind Blaine. He rolled sideways and Kurt thrashed about a little and in a frantic shuffle, the covers landed over his face and he groaned after having moved too quickly. Blaine's heart was thumping loudly as he looked towards the door, ready to see his mom there.

Except his mom was not the person standing there.

"Oh my God," Quinn shouted. "_You're_ _cheating on me_?"

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but Quinn had moved closer and then she was tugging the covers off of the bed.

"You're cheating on me _with a boy_?" she exclaimed, as Kurt moved to cover his now exposed lower half. Kurt made a little hissing sound because he had bent his upper body before he could stop himself.

"Jesus, Qui—"

"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "You're cheating on me with a boy _from glee club_?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow, because apparently, Quinn still didn't know Kurt's name. She pulled the covers all the way off and Kurt's body jerked and he closed his eyes in pain.

"Quinn, what the fuck?" Blaine said, pushing himself up onto his knees. He grabbed the cover back and covered himself, then threw one side across Kurt's legs, covering him, too. "Will you stop that? It's not like he's not already bruised all over—"

"Holy shit!" Quinn exhaled, dark green eyes wide and locked on Kurt's chest. "What is this? Are you guys into really rough, painful sex, or something? Oh my God, Blaine—"

"Quinn," Blaine said, firmly. "No, no. He got in a car accident, remember?"

She gave him a blank stare that lasted for about ten seconds, then her eyes widened again. "I cannot believe you're doing this to me! You're having sex with a _guy_, Blaine! That's disgusting! I can't—I can't even look at you right now, oh my God."

Kurt was still doubled over and Blaine looked at him. "Are you—"

"Fine, just fine," he panted.

Blaine wasn't convinced, but he didn't get a chance to ask about it, because Quinn was flinging things across the room. He stared at her for a minute and then Kurt looked up.

"Um, Quinn," Kurt said, then. "I don't like you, but, um, you're pregnant, so I think you should probably, like, not do, um, that."

"Yes!" Quinn shrieked. "I'm pregnant! And you're sleeping with my baby's father, you fag—"

"Quinn!" Blaine said and he stood up and shuffled into his underwear. "Quinn, just—stop, okay? Stop and just—just leave."

Quinn stopped flinging things and looked at Blaine, her eyes livid. She pointed a manicured finger nail at him and said, "I can't believe you would do this to me! You're having sex with a boy!" Blaine wondered if she thought he was not aware of Kurt's gender. "So, how long, Blaine? How long have you been _fucking a boy_? Is this why we haven't had sex in seven months, Blaine? Because you'd rather have a di—"

"Quinn," Blaine said, tiredly.

She stared at him for a second, then gave Kurt a dirty look, before turning around and walking out, slamming the door behind her. Blaine stared after her for a few moments, then turned back to look at Kurt.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"Well," Blaine exhaled. "Guess I don't have to do the dumping any more." He gave Kurt a small smile.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded, not smiling. "Except now everyone and their mother will know."

Blaine hadn't thought of that. His heart stilled for a split second, then he let out a long breath. "Right," he nodded. "Yeah, I—I guess, I'll be okay. I mean, I'll—yeah. It'll be okay." He nodded again and smiled, timidly.

Kurt smiled, then. "You shouldn't have to do this against your will, but if you're confident about that, you'll get through it. Don't let them get to you and.." Kurt trailed off and his smile disappeared. He whispered something that Blaine couldn't hear, his azure eyes wide and staring into space.

"What?" Blaine asked, worried he was hurt. "What is it?"

"Blaine," Kurt breathed, slowly. "I'm not putting words in your mouth here, but how long ago is it since you and Quinn had sex?"

Blaine eyed him, curiously. "Um, June.. Yeah, seven months, give or take a few days." He shrugged, unsure of what Kurt was getting at.

"Right," Kurt nodded, quickly. "And how far along is Quinn now?"

Blaine tried to remember. "Um," he said. "It must be, like, ten weeks now, right?"

"Okay," Kurt said. "Okay, so I want you to think about that. Like really hard."

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Kurt, who was watching him with anticipation. He thought about it again.

"No," Blaine shrugged. "What are you getting at?"

Kurt sighed and it appeared to hurt, so he grunted a little, then looked at Blaine again. "Okay, so I know you've had a lot to deal with and you haven't been thinking straight, but if Quinn is ten weeks pregnant, which is, like, two and a half months?" Blaine nodded, following. "And you haven't slept with her in seven months then—"

"Then the baby can't be mine," Blaine said, incredulously. He felt something catching in his throat and then he was smiling and throwing himself on top of Kurt, who cried out. "Shit, sorry, I forgot, but OH MY GOD, Kurt."

"Glad I could help," he croaked.

"Mm," Blaine said, kissing him once. "I love you," he told him and kissed him again. "I just—I just fucking love you, come here."

And he kissed him again and Kurt smiled against his lips and Blaine felt another weight lifting. There was still more, so much more, but God, this made things a lot easier.

"God," Blaine whispered into Kurt's mouth. "I—I love you."

* * *

><p>"Where are you going?" Kurt exclaimed when Blaine drove his car out of the driveway and turned left instead of right. "School is that way," he pointed out, gesturing to the right.<p>

"I know where school is," Blaine smiled. "I'm taking you home."

Kurt blinked a few times as Blaine drove down the long, winding road. "Um, so I can change?"

"No," Blaine told him. "So you can go home and like, not move."

Kurt shot him an accusing glare. "I am not staying home today," he declared.

"Why must you be so difficult?" Blaine sighed.

Kurt remembered what it had been like when he had come out. He remembered the stares and the sneering and the snide remarks. He remembered being shoved against lockers and laughed at and being called an array of names. He remembered feeling ashamed—not because he was gay, but because he was the centre of attention and for all the wrong reasons. He remembered wishing he had someone, anyone, who would be there to help him through it, who would provide him with some support, no matter how small. He remembered not wanting to go through it alone.

"You're not going to want to go through this alone," Kurt apprised him. "Trust me."

Blaine opened his mouth, then closed it again. He was quiet for a while, then said, "Do you have your books at school?"

Kurt nodded. "In my locker."

They were silent as they continued on down the long road, then Blaine made a turn and reversed the car, then went back in the opposite direction. Kurt smiled to himself.

"Will your dad find out?" Kurt asked, after a while.

Blaine exhaled shakily. "I—yeah. Probably. He's sort of friends with the parents of, like, half the football team and the Cheerios."

Kurt bit his bottom lip, then, because he couldn't help thinking about what Blaine's dad would do once he did find out. He shuddered, because he had done what he had just because Blaine had skipped football game, he didn't even want to think about how he would react to this news.

"Blaine.."

"Don't," Blaine said, quietly.

Kurt didn't.

They arrived in the school parking lot a few minutes later and Blaine parked his car and pulled the keys out of the ignition and the car went dead. They were silent, again, for a few heartbeats, then Blaine turned to look at Kurt. He let out a long breath.

"You didn't have to come here today."

"Yes," Kurt told him. "I did."

"You had no one.."

"Nope."

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, solemnly.

"It's okay," Kurt shrugged, slightly.

They both went quiet again and then Blaine reached across and placed a warm hand over Kurt's. Kurt raised his eyes to Blaine's and he looked terrified, his hazel eyes wide and filled with worry.

"You'll survive, you know," Kurt told him.

"I know."

Blaine dropped his eyes again and took a few deep breaths. Kurt watched him,their hands still touching. Then Blaine looked up again.

"Thank you."

"For what?" Kurt asked, tilting his head sideways.

"_Everything_."

* * *

><p>Nobody batted an eyelid.<p>

Blaine's ears were buzzing and the world was a clouded mess and he was prepared for the worst, but it never came. He and Kurt walked down the halls in an eerie silence, because it didn't make sense that no one would say a word.

"I don't get it," Blaine muttered, glancing at Kurt out of the corner of his eye.

"Maybe she's not here yet," Kurt suggested.

"No," Blaine shook his head. "Last year whenever anything happened, she passed around a chain message, then had Jacob Ben Israel print it in the school newspaper. She wouldn't waste any time."

"Well, then," Kurt said. "I have no idea what's going on."

Blaine shrugged and they kept walking until they reached the corridor where their lockers were lined.

Kurt paused at his locker and Blaine stopped, too and watched as he fumbled with the combination. Blaine stared for a few seconds, then reached over and twisted it open for him.

"Are you ever going to get the hang of that?" he teased, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Apparently not," Kurt told him, as he reached inside his locker and chose the books he needed for the morning. "Luckily, I have you to do it for me," he smirked.

"True," Blaine smiled. "What do—"

"Blaine!"

Blaine swung around and saw Quinn coming towards him, grinning. She was walking with another Cheerio, Blaine didn't remember her name. He and Kurt stared at her, open-mouthed, as she walked up to Blaine and leaned across and placed a small kiss on his cheek.

"Quinn, what are y—"

"I missed you," she said, sweetly. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Blaine couldn't form a complete sentence. He watched as she continued on down the hall. He came back to earth at the sound of Kurt slamming his locker shut. He turned back to look at him and Kurt shook his head.

"What just happened?" Blaine breathed.

"I," Kurt told him. "Have no idea."

Blaine felt his pocket vibrating, then and he reached inside to pull out his phone.

**1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: QUINN.**

_We need to talk. Meet me at 4.30 at the Lima Bean. Bring your stupid boyfriend. _

Blaine didn't think there was much to talk about, but he wanted to know what was going on. He handed the phone to Kurt. He read the message, then smiled crookedly.

"Boyfriend, huh?"

Blaine's face tilted pink and he stammered over his words. "I—um, that—I just—we—uh.."

Kurt raised a thin eyebrow and smiled. Blaine tried to retain his composure. _Boyfriend_, though. It was strange to think of things in those terms. He had never had a boyfriend, obviously. He had only ever been the boyfriend. The thing was that Kurt sort of was his boyfriend, in every sense of the word and eventually, Blaine was going to have to get used to that.

"Yeah he said, finally. "Yeah, boyfriend."

He watched the surprise light up Kurt's face, his mouth parting as if he might speak, but he didn't. His eyes widened, all blue and sparkling and then he smiled and took a step closer.

"Well, then," he began. "I'll see you later, _boyfriend._"

Kurt gave Blaine's arm a small pat, before walking on down the hall, leaving Blaine staring after him. Blaine smiled when he saw how slowly Kurt was walking. He wondered if he was more hurt from the injuries he had gained from the car crash, or from what they had done the night before. He was probably regretting having worn those skin tight pants now, but God, they looked good.

Blaine watched as Kurt stopped to talk to Mercedes. He was smiling and saying something and his eyes were bright and he was blinking in that pretty way that Blaine found so enchanting, even if it was still a creepy thing to notice. Blaine saw Azimio walk by Kurt and he said something to him, something Blaine couldn't hear. Kurt rolled his blue eyes and shot back with what was probably a snarky reply. Azimio scowled and walked on. Blaine loved how Kurt was, how he was so confident in himself and behaved as if nothing phased him.

Yes, he was proud to have Kurt Hummel as his boyfriend.

* * *

><p>"I know."<p>

Blaine looked up as Kenny slipped into the seat next to him. Blaine wanted to get up and go sit somewhere else, because Kenny infuriated him, especially when he thought about Kurt's bruises and sprained wrist.

"You know what?" Blaine spat out.

"I know," Kenny repeated. "That you are sleeping with Hummel."

Blaine sighed. He wasn't sure if he should deny it or not, because for one, he was scared, scared of the consequences, scared of everything, on the other hand, he was so damned tired, he just didn't want to care any more.

"I thought we were over that rumour," he said anyway.

"No, no," Kenny grinned, slouching back in his chair. "I had a little chat with one Dave Karofsky last night—well, it was more than a chat, actually." He smirked sideways at Blaine, who was staring at him with his mouth open. "But the thing with Dave Karofsky is that he's just trying to work himself out, you know? So, he'll take any chance to do that and when I sauntered in and gave him my best smile, he was all over me, if you know what I mean."

Blaine raised his eyebrows. "I don't want all the gory details, thanks, Kenny."

"Oh, but I think you do, Blaine," Kenny informed him. "See, Karofsky isn't looking for a relationship _per se,_ and God only knows I'm certainly not, but," Kenny said, emphasising the word 'but'. "Like myself—hell, like all of us—David has a sex drive." Blaine spluttered a little, then grimaced, because this was Dave Karofsky they were talking about. Kenny ignored him and went on. "Therefore, he thinks that if he tells me stuff, that I'll continue sleeping with him and you know what, Blaine? Let him think that. If he's going to give me all the juicy gossip, then, yes, I'll let him think I'll sleep with him again. I'm not going to, obviously. I mean, it's not like it was the best night of my life, or anything—"

"Is there a point to all this?" Blaine cut in. "Because I just don't need the images you're providing me with, right now."

Kenny laughed then, cruel and high. "There's always a point, Anderson," he told him. "So, David told me a little secret about you and Mr Kurt Hummel."

"Did he?" Blaine said, tiredly.

"He did and you can pretend all you want, I know it's true," Kenny said, confidently. "I put the pieces together, Anderson. I figure if you weren't closer to Hummel—and by closer I mean 'having sex with'—then there wouldn't really be any reason for you to come around and beat me up for what I did, would there?"

Blaine knew he was right. He couldn't really hide it any more. He sighed again and sat back.

"Okay," he nodded. "So what? What's your point?"

"My point," Kenny told him. "Is that you—Mr Alpha Male—have a girlfriend."

"No," Blaine apprised him. "I don't."

Which wasn't a lie. Regardless of what happened, Quinn was not his girlfriend any more, she never really had been in any real sense, anyway.

"Well, last time I checked, you did."

"Do you spend a lot of time checking up on me, Kenneth?" Blaine enquired.

Kenny glared at him. "Don't flatter yourself, Anderson."

"So, what is this?" Blaine asked. "Some kind of sour grapes because you had to drug Kurt to get his clothes off and all I had to do was give him a smile?"

Which wasn't true, exactly. He didn't remember much of what he had done to first get Kurt to sleep with him. He remembered every time after that, though. These were the things he never wanted to forget.

"Not even close, Blaine," Kenny smiled again. "I'm just letting you know that I have something on you, that's all."

"You don't, not really," Blaine informed him. "If you want to tell people, go for it. I'm sick of people trying to blackmail me. I don't suppose Karofsky told you about the incident in the janitor's closet with Kurt?"

Kenny stared at Blaine and it was clear that he had no idea what he was talking about.

"You should ask him about that," Blaine smiled, happily. "You might find that you guys are a lot more alike than you think."

* * *

><p>Kurt was on his way to glee and the halls were completely empty. He was early, so he could walk slowly, which he needed, because every part of him hurt. The only sound was the clip clop of his shoes against the tiles, echoing through the corridors. Then he heard noises from behind him. He turned and saw Blaine jogging towards him. Kurt smiled.<p>

"Are you running to mock me, Anderson?"

"No, I just wanted to catch up with you," Blaine chuckled and stopped jogging and started walking instead.

Kurt stopped to wait for him, then he felt himself being shoved roughly against the lockers. His stomach and ribs throbbed as he slipped down to the ground. He looked up and saw Karofsky laughing.

"I thought we had a deal," Blaine said, angrily.

"At no point did we say violence was put of the question," Karofsky made his excuse.

Kurt stayed where he was, just breathing, but he wanted to stand up and drag Blaine away by the arm, because Karofsky wasn't worth it. Except he really could not move right now.

"Karofsky," Blaine said, sounding weary. "Remember how we were sort of blackmailing each other?"

Karofsky said nothing, he simply scowled at Blaine.

"The thing is, I don't care," Blaine said and Kurt looked up at him. He knew he was terrified, but he also knew he was getting tired of keeping up the facade. He wasn't ready for what coming out entailed, so Kurt really hoped he wouldn't push Karofsky to a point that would make him tell everyone about him.

"Blaine, I don't thi—" Kurt tried, but Blaine cut him off.

"It's okay," he assured him, then looked back at Karofsky, soft expression hardening again. "Dave, I talked to Kenneth Puckerman in history, today and do you know what he told me?"

Kurt looked up at Blaine, wondering what he could possibly be getting at. Karofksy looked panicked, his mouth open, eyes wide with shock.

"He told me that you.. How did he put it? Oh, yeah. He helped you with your 'sex drive'."

"Oh my God," Kurt whispered and Karofsky shot him a less than amused look, which he ignored.

"So, really, what you have on me," Blaine went on. "Is nothing compared to what I have on you."

Kurt frowned, because Blaine was threatening to out him again and he wasn't sure if he was serious or not.

"And unless you want to end up on probation—or worse—like your boyfriend," Blaine laughed then. "Sorry, he's not really your boyfriend, though, is he? He's more of a fu—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, warningly, but he smiled a little. Blaine smiled, too.

"Whatever he is," Blaine said. "He's on probation for drugging Kurt and trying to have his way with him. If memory serves, you didn't drug him, but you did try to have your way with him, didn't you?"

"I didn't do anything like tha—"

Blaine spoke over Karofsky, who groaned.

"Maybe not," Blaine stated. "But it doesn't sound good, does it? Shoving a guy in a dark, empty closet and forcing yourself on him?"

Karofsky looked flustered, but he didn't say anything. Kurt pushed himself to sit straight and Blaine frowned at him, probably for moving. Kurt shrugged and pressed his back against the cool metal of the lockers.

"So, apologise to Kurt for shoving him when he's already severely hurt from what Kenny did, which I'm sure you heard all the little details about," Blaine ordered. "Also, please refrain from doing that again."

Karofsky groaned and punched a locker, emitting a loud crash. Blaine simply smiled and they watched Karofsky storming off down the halls, cursing under his breath. Blaine walked closer to Kurt and outstretched an arm.

"Come on, pretty boy," he sighed. Kurt took his hand and allowed him to pull him gently to his feet. Blaine steadied him, eyes watching him warily. "You okay?"

"Fine," Kurt told him.

Blaine was smiling at him, his copper-coloured eyes watching him intently.

"What?" Kurt asked, finally.

"What am I going to do with you?" Blaine chuckled and Kurt just continued to stare in confusion. "Is there a gay guy in town that doesn't want to get inside those tight, tight pants of yours?"

Kurt scoffed a little and felt heat spreading up his neck and then up into his cheeks. Blaine raised an eyebrow, which only caused Kurt to blush even more and then Blaine was laughing.

"Come on, gorgeous," Blaine said, absently and Kurt's heart skipped a beat. He stood stuck to the spot and Blaine looked back at him, quizzically.

"Coming," Kurt squeaked and followed him, but his head was still spinning and his heart was still racing and the butterflies in his stomach were still dancing, because Blaine Anderson had called him gorgeous.

* * *

><p>"Show time," Blaine uttered, when he saw Quinn pushing the glass door open and walking inside, her nose high in the air.<p>

"Blaine," Kurt said, beside him.

"Hmm?"

"Can you loosen your grip a little? You're cutting off my circulation."

Blaine looked down at their hands under the table. He was clinging to Kurt like the world was trying to pull him away and he just couldn't let him go. He let go, then and gave Kurt an apologetic look.

"Sorry."

Kurt smiled and looked back up. Blaine followed his gaze and saw Quinn, who had now spotted them, scowling as she made her way towards them, slipping in and out of the occupied chairs and tables. When she reached them, she gave them her best 'I am superior to you and you are not fit to wipe my shoes' look, then pulled out the chair and sat down.

The three of them sat in silence for a long time, just listening to the sounds of cups clacking against each other and people laughing and talking around them. It was, Blaine had to admit, extremely awkward. Finally, he decided it was time to break the ice.

"So, what do you want?" he asked and both Kurt and Quinn looked up quickly, as if they were surprised that he had spoken. "Why haven't you told anyone? What's your angle? And by the way, Quinn—"

"How many questions are you going to ask in one breath, Blaine?" Quinn asked, narrowing her eyes. "Which one would you like me to answer first?"

Blaine didn't flinch, because he was sick of this, sick of Quinn acting like she was better than everyone, sick of her treating everyone—including himself—like crap.

"How about you tell me whose baby you're having?"

* * *

><p>Kurt almost laughed, he was so close to just spluttering that he had to bite down hard on his lip to stop himself. It was her face that did it to him. He didn't like seeing others suffer, but she had been going on with such crap and she was looking down at everyone around her and then when Blaine asked her about the baby, her face just fell and she looked speechless.<p>

"I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered.

"Yes," Blaine said. "You do. We figured it out. The last time was June, Quinn."

Quinn looked ready to protest, but she looked from Blaine to Kurt and then back again and sighed, clearly frustrated.

"_Fine_," she groaned. "Fine. We're even. We're cheating on each other. Are you happy?"

"Do I get to know who?" Blaine asked.

"No."

"How about how long?"

"October," Quinn muttered.

Kurt felt out of place, like he was eavesdropping on something he shouldn't have been. He sat in silence, staring down at the round table, feeling extremely awkward.

"October," Blaine repeated, thoughtfully. It seemed as if a light bulb went on over his head then, as his eyes widened and he leaned forward an inch. "Puck! I remember him acting weird the next day. The night of his party, right?"

Quinn said nothing, she simply reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes darting around. Kurt could tell that this meant Blaine was right.

"Do you want to know what the most ironic part of all this is?" he smiled. Quinn did not reply. "The ironic thing is that we started cheating on each other on the same night."

Kurt looked up then, realising it was true. Blaine was sort of just sitting there by then and Quinn looked a little shell shocked, so Kurt thought he would say something.

"Why haven't you told anyone?" he asked.

"I have nothing to say to you," she informed him, eyes never leaving her nails.

"Didn't you tell him to bring me?" Kurt reminded her.

"That doesn't mean you have to speak!"

"Oh, what am I here for then?" Kurt asked, smiling a little. ""Just to look pretty? Or—"

"Can we just get to the point of all this, Quinn?" Blaine asked, glancing at Kurt. "Why didn't you tell anyone? And why did you bring us here?"

Quinn sat up straight and flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. "We need each other," she said, looking at Blaine.

"Um, no," he told her. "We don't."

"Yes, we do!" she stressed. "I need to stay with the most popular guy at school. I need to win this stupid Valentine's princess and then prom queen! I need to put all of that on a college application. I need to get through this pregnancy without people staring because it's not yours! I need to hand it up for adoption and I need to get out of this place. Then you're free of me, you can go back to being gay, or whatever, I don't care. But I need you until then," she said and Kurt saw the tears in her eyes. he heard the lump that was caught in her throat and he couldn't help feeling sorry for her. "And you," she went on. "You don't want people to know about him," she said, pointing at Kurt. "You don't want them all to find out that Blaine Anderson is a big, huge fake, who likes boys. And you most definitely do not want your daddy to know. So, I'm proposing a deal."

"A deal," Blaine repeated.

"Yes," she breathed. "You pretend to be my boyfriend. It'll be just like always, because it's always been pretending, hasn't it, Blaine?" She didn't give him a chance to reply, just kept talking. "Do this for me. You can still go on screwing whatever-his-name-is, we don't even have to talk, we just have to put on a show. Do that for me and I won't tell a soul about what I saw this morning."

"No—"

"Do it," Kurt urged and Blaine looked at him like he was crazy, and so did Quinn.

"What?" Blaine asked, surprise laced in his voice.

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "Do it. Accept her offer."

Blaine stared at Kurt for another few moments, then looked back to Quinn. "Can we just have a moment alone?"

Quinn sighed and stood up. "I guess I'll go get a coffee."

They watched her walking away and then Blaine looked at Kurt. "Why would I do what she's asking?"

"Because don't you remember how you were when this all started? Don't you remember being scared and feeling alone and wanting nothing more than for everyone to perceive you as this perfect guy and for your dad to just approve of what you were doing? Do you remember that?" Blaine nodded, but Kurt could tell he had no idea where he was going with this. "That's how she is. Plus, she's having a baby. Yeah, she's a bitch and she would step all over both of us just to get to what she wants, but don't you think she deserves a break? You of all people know what it's like to live under the watchful eye of society. She's afraid and she's clinging to the last thing she has: You. Don't ruin her, Blaine. You wouldn't have acted very kindly if I had told everyone after that first night. You deserved a chance to come into yourself, to find yourself. She does, too."

Blaine was quiet, thinking about what Kurt had said.

"Plus, there's also the part where you're not ready to come out," Kurt reminded him. "Look, the pregnancy can't stay a secret forever. At some point, Puck will put two and two together and come up with the baby. Until people find out, just pretend. Like she said, you don't even have to talk, just act as you always have. You're doing better with everything, with coming to terms with who you are and what you want. By the time Puck finds out, you'll be even more comfortable with who you are, you'll have had more time with it. If you don't do this for her, do it for you."

Blaine groaned, quietly. "It's like you know everything," he said, smiling a little.

"I do," Kurt smirked. "So, you'll do it?"

"You really think this is the right thing to do?"

Kurt nodded.

"And me and you will still—"

"We did say boyfriends, didn't we?" Kurt smiled, heart beating faster, because every time he said the word to Blaine he was prepared for the rejection, which he knew probably wasn't going to come, but he couldn't help feeling like that, because he had learned to expect the worst.

"Yes," Blaine smiled back at him, golden eyes shining. "We did, didn't we?" Kurt nodded. "And you're okay with it?" Blaine asked.

He was fine with it, because circumstances meant the whole thing would be a big mess and he would just have to deal with that, because Blaine was worth it.

"Absolutely," Kurt assured him. "It won't last for long, trust me."

"What about me and you?"

"I'm hoping that will," Kurt smiled, shyly. They had one of those movie moments, where they just stared at each other and it seemed as if everyone else wasn't even there. Kurt couldn't help thinking about how cheesy it was that he had felt like that. Blaine cleared his throat then and Quinn came back across the coffee shop, coffee cup in one hand, and sat back down.

"Well?"

"You've got a deal," Blaine said.

"Cool," Quinn said, quickly and she stood up again. "Good. Now you can go on with your blow jobs."

They watched her go and when she had closed the door behind her, Kurt sighed.

"As tempting as the blow jobs sound," Kurt began. "I sort of need to go home and sleep for about two weeks, because I feel like my entire body might cave in and stop working."

"Oh, well," Blaine said. "We can't have that, can we? Let's go."

Blaine stood up and offered Kurt some help, which he took, because he was exhausted. He helped him out to the car and then got in, himself. He started to drive, then.

"So, Quinn and Puck," Kurt said.

"Yeah," Blaine nodded. "Am I.. Should I feel mad at him? He was supposed to be my friend and then he just.. I don't, though. I feel nothing. Is that crazy?"

"No," Kurt said. "I think you're just done caring about people who don't care about you."

"You're right," Blaine said, quietly. "Hey, maybe next I could work on not caring about my dad."

Kurt looked at him, curiously. "You don't think your dad cares about you?"

"What, you think he does?" Blaine asked, as if it was the stupidest question ever asked. "He cares about himself, Kurt. The only reason he wants me to do these things is so that he gets to keep his status."

"Sounds familiar," Kurt muttered.

"I'm nothing like him," Blaine told him.

Kurt sighed and thought for a few minutes, trying to come up with a way to explain what he meant. "I would never, ever condone what he did to you and I didn't mean to say you were alike," Kurt began. "I just think that so many people are so caught up with wanting to please others, that they forget who they really are. And that's where the likeness stops, Blaine. You're not like him, you're nothing like him."

"Sometimes I worry that at the end of everything, after having been so fake and so concerned with everyone else around me, that I would end up like him; Hurting the people that have only ever loved me."

"You love your dad?" Kurt asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "I might be crazy, a sucker for punishment and all that, but he's still my dad and even if he doesn't give a damn about me, I can't be like him, I can't not care about him. He wasn't always like this and I remember those times, the times when he was just my dad. Now, it's different, but I won't forget those times. The thing about loving someone, Kurt," Blaine said. "Is that they can do all these awful, horrible things that you would never, ever agree with in a million years and they can sicken you to the point that you regret not having reported them to the police, or whatever. But you'll always remember the times when things weren't so bad and then you'll be glad you didn't take any drastic actions. I don't know what goes through his head, Kurt and I don't even want to know, but loving him is something I can't make go away. I hate him, too, most of the time, but those times when I didn't hate him will always be with me.

"Most of the time, the good won't cancel out the bad, because you'll always remember how you felt when the bad thing was happening, but sometimes you just can't stop how you feel about someone, regardless of what they've done."

"I know that," Kurt told Blaine and he saw Blaine's face when he realised just what he meant, that he was referring to Blaine and how he had hurt him, but that didn't have any impact on his feelings for him, stupid as that made him.

"I'll never forgive him, though," Blaine said. "What about you?"

"I already have."

* * *

><p><strong>Now I will go and watch Glee, because my livestreams kept breaking and I had downloading issues! Let me know what you thought and I'll try get a chapter done tomorrow :)<strong>


	23. Chapter 23

**I own nothing! Nothing *huge* in this chapter, but I wanted to get some Burt in here and then just some Klaine fluffiness and smuttiness (sorry Rebecca, I don't mean to make you struggle). The next chapter will be more drama-filled and stuff and I'm stealing a bit of canon for it, because I planned this scene way before I started writing this fic and I've been adamant on keeping it. ANYWAY, I will now shut up :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23:<strong>

"Not that I'm complaining, or anything," Burt began, studying Kurt with curious eyes. "But what are you so happy about?"

Kurt smiled up at his dad. "No reason."

Burt did not look convinced, as he wiped his hands on his thighs. "You've got a bruised everything and you're sitting there smiling like you found a million dollars lying outside on the doorstep. What gives?"

Kurt rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Dad," he said. "If I found a million dollars outside on the doorstep I would hand it over to the police."

When Kurt was growing up, he had never really had any friends. At school, there were a couple of kids he talked to sometimes, but outside school, there wasn't anyone he could hang out with. Because of this, his dad was his best friend, the one that was always there. His dad probably knew him better than anyone else in the world. Which is why Burt sat down on the couch next to his son and hit the mute button on the TV remote.

Kurt looked around in protest. "I was watching tha—"

"You can watch TV any old day," Burt informed him. "Seeing you smiling like that is something that can't be seen any old day."

Kurt looked up at his dad, smiling at him and then he smiled, too.

"So, what's happened?" Burt asked.

Kurt sighed and sat up straight. "Well—"

But Burt cut him off mid-sentence, frowning very slightly. "This has to do with that Blaine kid, doesn't it?"

Kurt's mouth developed into a small 'o' shape and his blue eyes widened. _Did his dad know everything? _"How did you..?" Kurt asked, trailing off at the end.

"Because I know you," Burt replied. "Look, Kurt, you can't let him keep leading you on like this. He's got a girlfriend, even if he does care about you. Fair enough if he still wants to be friends, but—"

"He doesn't have a girlfriend," Kurt shook his head. It was true, in a way. Quinn was only his _pretend_ girlfriend. It didn't mean anything and even if they couldn't tell anybody, Blaine was making him happy.

"He doesn't?"

"They broke up and um," Kurt stuttered. He hadn't told anyone this yet and he probably wouldn't for a long time. "We're sort of.. Together."

"_Sort of _together?" Burt looked sceptical.

Kurt nodded. "Look, dad, he's not ready to come out. He's not. He has a lot to deal with, what with his friends and his status and his dad—especially his dad. I can't force him out of the closet just because I want him to admit to the world that he likes me." _Loves me_, Kurt thought, silently. "I'm okay with keeping it a secret. He'll come round, I know he will. He's getting so much better at it and—"

"Look, Kurt," Burt said, tiredly. "I'm happy that you're happy, don't get me wrong and he's a good kid, but I just.. I think you deserve more, you know? I think you deserve someone who's not afraid, who's as brave and as confident as you are."

Kurt sighed. "Dad," he said. "It took me time to get to where I am today and I'm really only just finding myself now. Blaine's only at the beginning, he still has a long way to go. And I like him, dad, I really like him."

Kurt didn't want to tell his dad that he loved him. Yes, he had told him before that he might be in love with him, but now it all felt that much more real. Blaine was telling him he loved him every so often. He looked a little awkward while doing it, but the sentiment was still there and Kurt hadn't said it back yet, because despite the fact that he knew Blaine was very much into him, he couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't all the way out of the woods yet. Blaine still had a lot going on and who knew what he would do? If Kurt gave him everything, his heart, those three words, then he would have all of him and Kurt would have been happy giving Blaine his all if things hadn't been the way they were. He would say it back some day, but today was not that day.

"You think you and him can come out winning on the other side of—of all that?" Burt asked.

Kurt shrugged. He wasn't sure. He hoped so and Blaine seemed hopeful, but you didn't always get everything you wanted.

"Maybe," Kurt said, toying with the bracelet on his left wrist. He never took it off. "I hope so. We—he—I think we're good together. We're happy, anyway."

It had been a week since they had decided on the whole 'boyfriends' thing. It had started off a little bit awkward, but they were more comfortable together now.

"You should bring him over."

"I should do what?" Kurt asked, sitting up a little. "Why? You've met him already."

"I met him as the asshole you were helping out, then I met him as a kid that just cared about your well-being," Burt pointed out. "Now I want to meet him as your, y'know, boyfriend."

Kurt's skin began to hum every time he connected Blaine and the word 'boyfriend'. He hadn't ever really had a boyfriend (Evan didn't count and he hadn't ever referred to him as his boyfriend anyway, except for that one time when he'd been trying to piss that one guy at his old school off) and sometimes, he wanted to tell everyone, to just scream it from the rooftops that Blaine Anderson was his boyfriend.

"I—um, okay?" Kurt made it a question.

"Bring him over for dinner tomorrow," Burt smiled and Kurt could tell he was really trying, because he had seen how much Blaine meant to Kurt.

"All right, cool," Kurt beamed. "I'll call him." Because Kurt would take any excuse to call Blaine.

"Yeah, you do that," Burt nodded. "But first, I gotta tell you something."

* * *

><p>"Finn Hudson's mom."<p>

"What?" Blaine asked, when he answered the phone.

"My dad," Kurt said, slowly. "Is dating Finn Hudson's mom."

Blaine sank back on his pillows and smiled. He could always smell Kurt's on his things these days, that smell of soap and vanilla and an array of other things he could never quite place. Blaine loved how dramatic Kurt was about everything, how he made everything so much more interesting just by the tone in which he said it.

"Is that bad?" Blaine asked.

"No," Kurt told him. "But of all the people in town, he's dating Finn's mom. How uncanny is that?"

"I've never seen Finn's mom," Blaine realised. "And now all I can picture is Finn Hudson with a wig and in a dress. I'm so creeped out right now."

"Oh my God, Blaine," Kurt gasped, faux horror in his voice. "Never say that again."

Blaine chuckled. "Sorry," he smiled. "So, other than Finn Hudson in heels, what's going on?"

"_Heels,_" Kurt breathed and Blaine laughed. "Actually, I sort of told my dad about us."

"Oh," Blaine said, quietly.

"Should I not have?"

"Oh, no," Blaine said, quickly. "No, I didn't mean that. I just meant, you know, I—he's thinking exactly what I am: That you deserve better than me, that you deserve someone who's not afraid to walk down the street holding your hand."

Blaine hated doing this to Kurt, hated that he couldn't just tell the world that he had him. He was so tired of pretending, but too afraid to let the truth come out, even if sometimes that was all he wanted.

"I don't want anyone else," Kurt told him.

Kurt said things like that sometimes, romantic things that should have made him smile and they did, at first, but then he would remember that he wasn't giving him everything, wasn't giving him all the things he deserved from the guy that claimed to love him. And he did love Kurt, a lot, more than he had ever loved anyone.

"You're an idiot, then," Blaine sighed, but he was smiling.

"Anyway," Kurt said. "He wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow. Does that weird you out?"

"Not as much as Finn Hudson in a dress," Blaine quipped back and he heard Kurt scoffing on the other end. "But yeah, I don't know. I guess it makes me a little nervous, but I'll do it. I owe you this."

"You don't owe me anything, Blaine," Kurt sighed, tiredly. "And if you don't want to come, just say so and we'll forget about it."

"No," Blaine said, sitting up, his heart sinking a little. "No, Kurt, stop. Look, I'm coming. I want to. I do. I want to come, I promise."

"No, you don't," Kurt told him.

"I do," he assured him. "I just—I'm scared of messing this up, is all. I don't want to screw up what we have. Not ever."

"And you won't," Kurt said, happily. "At least not as a result of meeting my dad."

Blaine didn't say so, but he wasn't convinced. He had this knack of ruining everything that he touched. He hoped to God that this would be the turning point, that he would never screw up again, because if he hurt Kurt again, he would never forgive himself.

"You," Blaine smirked. "Have far too much faith in me."

"You're always putting yourself down," Kurt said and Blaine could hear him smiling, but he was being serious. "You'll be fine, Blaine."

"I hope," Blaine told him. "So, what time do you want me and what should I wear?"

"Ooh," Kurt hummed and Blaine realised he could have worded that better. "How about in ten minutes time in your field and wearing nothing?"

"I meant tomorrow, dork," Blaine grinned. "But that does sound tempting."

* * *

><p>"Oh my God," Kurt said, when he opened the door and saw Blaine standing there. "You look petrified."<p>

"Thanks," Blaine deadpanned.

"This is a new look," Kurt said, looking over Blaine's outfit. "The bowtie." Kurt chuckled. He had never seen Blaine dressed like this, he was always so busy conforming to how others expected him to dress. Kurt guessed this was the real Blaine.

"What?" Blaine asked, looking alarmed. "Should I lose it?"

"No, no," Kurt grinned. "It's cute."

"Okay," Blaine said, looking unsure. Then he looked up at Kurt, golden eyes sweeping all the way from the boots on his feet up to his blue eyes. "You look good, but you usually do."

Kurt smiled and stood back to allow him space to get in, but Blaine was Blaine so he slid in and brushed his body off Kurt's as he went. Kurt gasped a little at the contact, but he didn't move away.

"I'm going to kill you," Kurt teased, brushing his shirt down.

"Why, did I get you hard?"

"Blaine!" Kurt hissed, gesturing towards the kitchen, where his father was struggling with making dinner. "No, you did not. Come on."

Kurt began walking towards the living room, Blaine following closely behind. Kurt could feel him staring at him, those eyes like burning cinders locked on him as he walked.

"God," Blaine uttered. "Your butt looks so good in those jeans."

Kurt swung around to look at him. He gave him a half-amused, half-bemused expression. "When you're nervous, do you always cover it up with sex?"

Blaine gave him a sheepish smile. "Not that I've noticed before now," he told him.

Kurt smiled, shook his head, then continued on into the living room and sat down. Blaine took a seat next to him.

"How are the bruises doing?" he asked, turning to look at Kurt.

Kurt lifted his shirt to show him the faded bruises. Blaine hadn't seen his bare chest in a few days now and the bruising had gone down quite a bit since then. It didn't hurt as badly any more, either. Kurt blushed as Blaine studied his torso, his eyes crinkling a little at the sides as he ran them over the pale red bruises. Kurt concentrated on taking even breaths as he watched Blaine, trying to read his expression.

"They still look pretty bad," Blaine said, nibbling gently on his bottom lip.

"Yeah, but they feel a lot better," Kurt told him.

"_Oh_."

Kurt and Blaine looked around to see Burt standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and darting around a little. He was holding a red and white striped tea cloth and seemed to be wiping his hands in it. Kurt blushed harder and dropped his shirt back down over his chest.

"I was just, um, showing him how the bruising has gone down," Kurt explained.

"Right," Burt said, awkwardly.

There was a silence that lasted about twenty seconds long, before Blaine stood up and spoke.

"Um, hi, Mr Hummel," he said and Kurt looked up at him, eyes wide. "Thanks for inviting me over."

Burt seemed to attain his usual manner then. "No sweat, kid," he smiled. "And call me Burt. Dinner's done."

* * *

><p>"So, you like football, Blaine," Burt said, as he scooped more peas onto his plate. Kurt glanced from his dad to his boyfriend, as he poked at his side salad with the prongs of his fork.<p>

"Um, yeah," Blaine answered. "I mean, I like _watching _football. Playing it is okay, just.. Not really my thing."

Kurt stared at him. "But you're the quarterback of the football team," he reminded him.

"Not because I want to be," Blaine uttered, eyes on his food. He looked nervous and as if he would rather talk about anything else in the world.

It struck Kurt then that he hadn't ever really asked Blaine about the whole football issue. he had just assumed he liked to do it. He realised then that Blaine only played football because that was what his dad wanted him to do. He was good at it because he had talent, but also because he pushed himself to be good, to please his father.

Kurt decided to change the subject, but Burt cut in first. "Got any plans for after you finish school yet, Blaine?"

Blaine looked uncomfortable. "Um," he said. "I don't know. I thought I had it all worked out, but.. Things change, I guess." He shrugged and continued to cut his meat into small pieces.

"Kurt applied to New York," Burt told him and Kurt looked up at him, eyes wide, as if to ask why he would just tell him something like that. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell Blaine, or hadn't told him on purpose, it was just that they were working through a lot of things and they didn't need the stress of the future and college to sit on top of the already-large pile.

"Yeah?" Blaine looked up at Kurt and smiled a little. "That's great."

Kurt smiled and looked away. It was early in their relationship to be thinking so far ahead, but they would have to, eventually.

"Can I ask you something?" Burt said and Kurt looked up at him and tried to get him to stop, because this was quickly becoming very awkward. Burt ignored him—or didn't notice, Kurt couldn't tell—and spoke after Blaine gave a small nod. "Last week, you had a girlfriend."

"Dad," Kurt said, laying his fork and knife down.

"It's okay," Blaine told Kurt, then looked back to Burt. "I—Quinn and I were only ever together because we were always told we should be. I sort of just—accepted that, but um, apparently, I don't even—uh, like, um, girls."

Kurt gave Blaine a smile, because he knew it had been hard for him to admit that to someone that wasn't Kurt. He was getting there, getting better every day.

"Okay," Burt nodded. He seemed to accept it, but Kurt knew he wanted to say more. He wouldn't allow him to, because as hard as Burt tried, he didn't really understand what Blaine was going through, especially since Kurt hadn't exactly told him everything. He made a mental note to talk to him about it, tell him the little details, minus all the sex, obviously.

"Um," Kurt said. "Dad, I'm going to go finish my homework." He stood up and looked at Blaine, who appeared to be finished with his food. "Coming?" Kurt asked.

Blaine stood up quickly and lifted his plate to take into the kitchen. "Uh, thanks Mr Hu—Burt. Dinner was great."

Burt gave him a smile and a nod and then looked at Kurt, smile disintegrating. "Door stays open."

* * *

><p>"Are you serious?" Kurt asked Blaine, his eyes wide.<p>

"Serious about what?" Blaine asked, looking confused.

"You just.. You worked that math problem out like it was nothing to you," Kurt said, looking at Blaine, his face a mask of surprise. "Yet you couldn't figure out that Quinn couldn't possibly be pregnant with your baby? What is wrong with you?"

Blaine laughed and closed Kurt's math book. He sat back and sighed. "I'll never get how I didn't add that up faster."

"Me neither," Kurt told him, throwing his books down onto the floor and falling back next to Blaine, their heads close.

"She called me today," Blaine told Kurt, smile frowning.

"Oh, yeah?" Kurt asked and Blaine caught the brief flash of disappointment in his bright, blue eyes. Blaine reached down and laid a hand over his. Kurt didn't respond, just allowed him to place his hand there.

"Relax," he said. "She called to remind me about the stupid Valentine's dance. Apparently, she found some kind of dress that flares out and hides her bump, or whatever. I don't know why she was telling me this, but yeah.. I have to pick her up at 7 on Saturday."

Kurt just nodded and Blaine gave his hand a small squeeze. "You're coming, right?"

"No," Kurt said, looking at him like he was crazy. Blaine wished he would just show him he was okay, just one teeny, tiny squeeze of his hand would stop the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach.

"What? Why not?"

"Blaine," Kurt said. "You want me to go to a Valentine's dance by myself? That is beyond tragic."

Blaine chuckled. "Why?" he asked. "It's not like you're actually single, you know?"

"Regardless," Kurt told him. "I don't really want to see Quinn all over you the whole night, so I'll be just fine here watching 'Hairspray' for the umpteenth time, thanks."

"You know she doesn't.." Blaine trailed off, because Kurt was frowning. "Kurt," Blaine said, shifting his body so that they faced one another. "Do you want me to tell her the deal's off? I'll do it. Because, okay, maybe the whole coming out thing really scares me, maybe I'm not totally ready for it, but at least the lies would be over and I'm just so tired of lying."

"Yeah," Kurt said. "And then you'll get tired of the fighting, because that's what you'll be doing for the next while, you'll be fighting to show people that there's nothing wrong with you, that who you like doesn't make you a different person to who you were before you came out. You can't win, Blaine. Either way, you're going to be tired, so at least wait until you're ready for the fight. Just.. Just wait."

Blaine sighed and moved in closer to Kurt. "You're always so sensible," he smiled, slightly, staring up at the white ceiling.

"One of us has to be," Kurt smiled down at him.

"I still think you should come," Blaine apprised him.

"Why?"

"Because I like looking at you," Blaine tilted his head. "Plus, I'm pretty sure you'd get a kick out of the whole thing."

Kurt moved closer still, which gave Blaine some relief. Kurt sighed and placed a hand gently down on Blaine's bicep. Blaine shivered. "Let's stop talking and make out, or something."

Blaine turned his body and moved so that he was hovering over Kurt. He smiled down at him. "Say you'll go."

"No," Kurt said. "You can't blackmail me like that."

"Can't I?" Blaine asked, lowering his hips. He saw Kurt swallowing hard as his ocean blue eyes dropped to look at Blaine's lower half meeting his own. Blaine chuckled as Kurt blushed high and bright in his cheeks.

"My dad has a shot gun," Kurt panted a little, eyes rolling ever-so-slightly backwards in his head as Blaine pressed his crotch into Kurt's.

"Really," Blaine said, lowering his mouth down to find Kurt's slender, pale neck.

"No," Kurt uttered.

Blaine chuckled and grazed his dry lips all along Kurt's neck, starting from the small patch behind his ear. He dragged his lips down as far as Kurt's pulse and sucked his skin into his mouth. Kurt shuddered beneath him.

"Mm," Blaine whispered into Kurt's neck. "You taste like.. Um, something I can't put a name to, but it's _gorgeous._"

"Are you eating me, or kissing me—_Oh!_" Kurt's breath caught in his throat as Blaine pressed the palm of his hand roughly against his semi-hard length. "Oh—_Fuck_, Blaine, why would you—_damn_—why would you do this while my dad is—_oh!—_upstairs? _Dammit_."

Blaine ignored his complaints and slid the zipper on Kurt's jeans slowly down. In one swift movement, Blaine slid his hand past the waistband of Kurt's underwear and took him in his hand.

"Will you come to the dance?" Blaine asked against Kurt's lips. "Please?" He began to pump his hand back and forth along Kurt's length and Kurt's sparkling eyes disappeared, his milky lids concealing them like a curtain.

"No," Kurt said, breathlessly, as Blaine ran his thumb over the slit. Kurt was completely hard now and Blaine took so much pleasure in the small, gaspy, moaning sounds he was making.

"Really?" Blaine asked, catching his earlobe between his teeth. "Not even now?"

Kurt hummed as Blaine stroked him back and forth harder and faster and Blaine knew he was close from the way his breathing had sped up and how his hips were jerking and how his eyes were rolling back and how Blaine had to close his mouth down over Kurt's to swallow the loud moans he was emitting.

Blaine knew he was close, so he removed his hand.

Kurt whined against Blaine's lips, his fingers gripping his shirt. He tried to speak, but his words came out in a muddle of incoherent grunts.

"Tell me you'll come to the dance," Blaine said, kissing Kurt's lips once. "I promise it'll be fun."

Kurt shook his head and groaned. Blaine pressed two fingers to the underside of Kurt's cock and Kurt moaned again.

"_Please_, Blaine," he panted.

"Say you'll come," Blaine urged, pushing Kurt's now damp hair back from where it was sticking to his forehead. "Come on, baby. Tell me you'll come."

_Baby._

That hadn't been intentional and he saw Kurt react to him saying it, his blue eyes freezing for a split second and his lips pausing mid-moan. It was just that Kurt did things to him, things no one had ever done to him and watching him like that, knowing he was doing this to him, making him come undone, making him unravel at the seams, made Blaine crazy. He was nuts about Kurt and sometimes, it still stunned him, but when he looked at Kurt, he knew there was no way he could ever be any other way than hopelessly in love with him.

"Tell me you'll come," Blaine said quietly in Kurt's ear, his voice a little raspy.

"Fine," Kurt broke finally. "Fine. I'll come. I'll come, okay? Just_—please,_ Blaine."

Blaine grinned and closed his hand down over Kurt's throbbing erection again. He moved his hand quickly back and forth a couple of times and then Kurt was coming in his pants. Blaine didn't stop moving his hand until Kurt's hips had stopped spasming. He pulled his hand out and fell back next to Kurt.

"That was hot," he told him, without thinking.

Kurt simply lay there, breathing, his eyes closed. A few seconds later, Kurt sat up and opened the bathroom door.

"I can't believe you just did that with my dad upstairs," Kurt shook his head. "_And _the door is open!"

Kurt flung a towel at Blaine so that he could clean his hand off. He smiled as he did and Kurt grabbed a fresh pair of underwear and jeans.

"Admit you liked the risk," Blaine teased. "Plus, now you're going to the dance!"

"Um, no," Kurt said. "I'm not."

"But you said you'd come," Blaine said, face falling.

Kurt chuckled and gestured towards his pants. "And I wasn't lying, was I?" he smirked. "I _did _come."

Kurt gave Blaine a wink and then he turned and walked into the bathroom, leaving Blaine gaping after him.

* * *

><p><span>To: Blaine.<span>  
><em>Got told to pass on the message. New Directions are singing at the dance. Yay (assume sarcasm).<em>

To: Kurt.  
><em>Which means you'll have to come after all!<em>

To: Kurt.  
><em>I meant go, not come. GO.<em>

To: Blaine.  
><em>Unfortunately, yes. This means your hand job was all for nothing.<em>

To: Kurt.  
><em>Not for nothing, no.<em>

To: Blaine.  
><em>When did your mind get so dirty?<em>

To: Kurt.  
><em>When did yours get so clean?<em>

To: Blaine.  
><em>It didn't.<em>

To: Kurt.  
><em>Good.<em>

* * *

><p>"Boy, you look good in a suit!"<p>

"Thanks, Mercedes," Kurt grinned. "Pearly purple is totally your colour."

Mercedes beamed at him and he gave hi hair a final spray, before joining her by the door.

"Ready to go?" Mercedes asked.

The dance was the last place Kurt wanted to be, but part of him wanted to see how Blaine was with Quinn in public. He had seen them in the school halls, but this was different. They would have to dance here. Kurt couldn't decide if it was a good idea that he was attending, or a bad idea.

Either way, he gave Mercedes his best smile.

"Ready!"

* * *

><p>The school gym was dark and intricately decorated and Artie and Sam were singing on the raised platform that was supposed to mimic a stage. People were dancing and singing and laughing and the entire hall was an array of colours and shapes and slinking bodies.<p>

Blaine was dancing with Quinn, because that was what he was supposed to do. She was sighing in his ear, because she was clearly as fed-up with this as he was. Her dress was red and _huge_. It was tight fitting around her chest, then flared out in a large netted skirt. He wondered what Kurt would say if he saw it. He smiled at the thought.

Blaine couldn't tear his eyes from the entrance door. He was waiting to see that perfectly styled, sand-brown hair, those shining blue eyes, that pale, flawless, alabaster skin. He wondered, after a while, if Kurt had changed his mind and decided not to come.

"Are you looking for your boyfriend?" Quinn hissed in his ear. "Because he probably won't come, you know? It would be kind of sad if he did."

"He'll be here," Blaine told her, simply.

Quinn looked up at him and rolled her eyes. Blaine sighed and looked back at the door again. He saw Mercedes and Rachel coming in the door, laughing, Mercedes dressed in purple, Rachel, in pink. Kurt had to be with them, didn't he?

Blaine lingered on the spot, just swaying a little with Quinn, then he saw those searching blue eyes, saw that perfect coiff, saw that pale, almost-translucent skin. He watched him blinking, slowly and carefully, his eyes looking around the hall, studiously. Blaine felt his heart sinking as Kurt turned his head to smile at Mike Chang, who had just greeted him.

When Kurt smiled, it made him weak.

When Kurt smiled _at him_, it set him alight inside.

Kurt turned his head, slowly and then his eyes landed on Blaine. Kurt smiled, blinked, then smiled again, followed by a couple more quick blinks. Blaine returned his smile and Kurt gave him the most subtle of winks, before turning back to the rest of his friends.

"They're staring at him," Quinn said and Blaine snapped back into reality. he had forgotten she was there.

"What?" he asked, flustered. "Who?"

"Them."

Blaine looked in the direction Quinn was gesturing and saw Puck, Kenny and Karofsky standing by the refreshments table. Puck was frowning at Blaine. Karofsky and Kenny were looking in Kurt's direction. Karofsky was scowling and Kenny was grinning from ear to ear, like the Cheshire cat. Blaine glared at them, then turned away again.

They could stare all they wanted, Kurt was his and there was nothing they could do to change that.

* * *

><p><strong>Okay, I'll try update tomorrow, because I might not be able to on Saturday. We'll see. Also, thank you to everyone who has written to me on tumblr about this, it means a lot to me. My mind will forever be blown that people are actually reading this (I completely have the Sideways tag tracked to see what people are saying and I cry a bit every time someone posts about it). And again, thanks to everyone for reviewing as always :D Let me know what you thought :)<strong>


	24. Chapter 24

**I own nothing! Okay, so I'm just going to remind you that I took something from canon for this chapter, because I planned it a long time ago and didn't want to change it. I changed it up a bit, too, so hopefully it's okay :) Also, thank you to ittlebitz (tumblr) who made me cry with her field graphic **

**ittlebitz(.)tumblr(.)com****/post/17074033927/what-happens-when-i-explore-ipad-apps-while-on **

** It's the first thing made for this fic and I died a little bit, so thank you! :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 24:<strong>

"It's spiked."

Kurt looked up from the reddish liquid in the plastic cup Rachel had handed him before she had gone to prepare for her solo, which she would be singing next.

"Um, what?" he asked Blaine, who had sauntered in the side door and was now leaning with his back against the wall.

"The punch," Blaine told him. "Don't drink it. It's spiked."

Kurt grimaced down at the cup again, then laid it down on the floor in the corner, where no one would knock it over. He went and stood close to Blaine, but not too close.

"I wasn't going to," he told him loudly, over the sound of Santana singing Adele. "It's Rachel's."

Blaine nodded, then gestured towards the stage. "She sounds good."

Kurt agreed and they stood there without saying a word for a few minutes, simply watching Santana performing. People were swaying on the dance floor and the music drifted slowly out of the speakers and through the air and Kurt felt calm, at ease.

"This is the least elaborate outfit I've ever seen you wear." Kurt turned his head sideways to look at Blaine, who was running his eyes down Kurt's simple, black suit. "You look so good," Blaine told him, his golden-brown eyes finding Kurt's blue ones.

"Thanks," Kurt gave him his best smile, then looked down at Blaine's equally plain, black suit. He had a small red flower pinned to the lapel, probably to match Quinn's dress, which was a walking disaster. He had seen her earlier and wondered what would possess a person to purchase something like that. Kurt knew she was trying to conceal her bump, but if he was honest, if he had been in her position, he would have rather had everyone find out than wear something like that. "You look pretty dashing, yourself."

Blaine smiled and looked back at the stage.

"So," Kurt said. "When do you get your crown?"

Blaine frowned and turned back to look at Kurt with a sigh. "Soon, I think," he told him. "I hope I don't win. Quinn will kill me, but I hope I don't win."

"I'm sure being the king has its perks," Kurt teased.

Blaine chuckled. "It's prince, actually," he informed Kurt. "Someone complained last year, saying that the king and queen titles should be reserved for prom, or something."

"Oh," Kurt said. "Prince Blaine, then. So, if you do win, what does that make me? The prince's bit on the side?"

Blaine looked up at him, face solemn. "No," he uttered. "That still makes you my boyfriend."

* * *

><p>"Time to announce the McKinley High Valentine's prince and princess!" Principal Figgins said cheerily into the microphone. "This is exciting! I wonder who it could be!"<p>

Blaine frowned, because everyone knew exactly who it would be. He hoped things would be different this time, that maybe he wouldn't win, that perhaps Puck or someone could have their turn. He knew better.

The hall was relatively silent and people stared up at Figgins, who was now holding a red envelope.

"And the McKinley High Valentine's prince is," Figgins said in his strong accent. He was silent for a few seconds, in an attempt to create suspense. "Mr Blaine Anderson!"

Blaine sighed and put on a smile, because that was what he was so used to doing. Quinn gave him a half-hearted hug and then let him go. He made his way to the steps and up on to the stage, the applause now dying down.

"Congratulations, Blaine Anderson!" Figgins grinned and Blaine gave him a smile. Figgins placed the stupid crown on his head and gestured towards the 'thrones', which were just chairs with red satin material draped over them. Blaine took a seat, still smiling and wished he could be anywhere else in the world.

"Now, to announce the princess!"

Blaine sighed and sank back in his chair. He could spot Quinn instantly in that dress. She was wearing a smug grin as she awaited her name. Everyone was glancing across at her, too. It was pointless doing this, really, they should have just given them the crowns and avoided the entire charade.

"The McKinley High Valentine's princess is," Figgins said, again, pausing for dramatic purposes.

Except this time he paused for longer. Blaine looked up at him as he squinted down at the card, eyebrows furrowing. Blaine wondered if someone had scribbled the name down in illegible hand writing. He thought about standing up and going to see if he could make it out, but Figgins looked up at the silent crowd.

"It's—ah.." Figgins stammered into the mic, his voice echoing around the hall. "It's Kurt Hummel."

Blaine sat forward, unable to believe his ears. _What was this? _He scanned the crowd looking for Kurt, but couldn't find him. He swung his head around when he heard a loud sob, but it was just Quinn, who was walking quickly towards the door. Blaine squinted his eyes, looking for him. He had to be around somewhere.

Then he saw a dark figure pushing its way through the people and heading for the same door. Blaine stood up, took the crown off his head and looked out, seeing Puck, Karofsky, Kenny and the other footballers laughing hysterically in the back corner. Other people started laughing, too.

Blaine stood up and Figgins gave him a quizzical look.

"I'm going to see if Quinn's okay," he provided, before jogging down the steps and past the laughing crowd.

He pushed the door open and looked around, frantically. There was no sign of either of them. Blaine went left and turned onto a long, narrow hallway. He glanced in every open door as he made his way along the corridor. He turned back when he had reached the end and went the other way, because there was no way Kurt could have made it all that way in that short amount of time.

Blaine did the same thing when he turned onto the other hallway and he stopped at the fourth door on the right, because he could hear frantic whispers coming from inside. He pushed the door open and saw Kurt pacing back and forth, looking like he had no idea what to do.

"Hey," Blaine said, going closer. "Hey, stop. Stop, Kurt."

Kurt stopped in front of him, his blue eyes wide and filled with anxiety.

"Take deep breaths," Blaine nodded. "Deep breaths. It'll be okay."

"How?" Kurt snapped, suddenly. "How is this okay? How is being humiliated in front of the entire school okay?"

Blaine flicked the light switch, because he couldn't see him in the dark. Kurt shielded his eyes and looked away, quickly. Blaine reached out and pulled a chair across.

"Here," he said, laying a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "Sit down."

Kurt allowed him to push him gently on to the chair. Blaine pulled another chair to face him.

"They're idiots," Blaine uttered, with a quiet groan.

"Who?"

"Football team," Blaine clarified. "And Kenny."

Kurt watched him through wide eyes for a couple of heart beats. "Did you know?"

Blaine looked up, eyes wider than Kurt's. "What?" he asked, incredulously. "Did I—Are you asking me if I knew they were going to do that?"

Kurt only nodded, twice.

"Kurt, I would never—I wouldn't," he shook his head. "No. God. Of course, I didn't know."

Kurt didn't look convinced, broken, but not convinced. "You were awfully adamant about me coming," he said, quietly.

Blaine gaped at him, then reached across and caught Kurt's chin gently between his thumb and fore finger. He tilted his head upwards. "Look at me," Blaine urged and Kurt's ocean blue eyes met his. "Never. I would never in a million years do that to you. I can see why you wouldn't trust me, but God, Kurt, I—I love you, remember? I only wanted you to come because I always want to be near you. I didn't want you to be sitting at home by yourself watching 'Hairspray'. I wanted you here, with me, even if you couldn't be _with me_, you would still be there, you know? Maybe that's stupid, I don't know." Blaine sighed. "But I do know that if I had known anything about this, I would have stopped it. I would never have let that happen to you. Not ever."

"I just—I don't get how they could have planned all this without their—what was it Puck called you that first day?—Oh, yeah, their _'number one guy'._ Can you explain that to me, Blaine?" Kurt went on before Blaine could reply. "I don't think you can, because the fact is, they don't move without your approval. Little do they know their number one guy is actually a number one _gay _and is screwing the resident punch bag. And I stress the word 'screwing', Blaine, because if you were in on this—and I'm pretty sure you were—then that's all it's been: Screwing, just for the hell of it."

Blaine shook his head, his heart hammering in his chest. "No," he told him. "No, Kurt. No, I lov—"

"No," Kurt said, adamantly. "No, you don't. You don't love me, Blaine. Drop the act."

"There is no act!" Blaine groaned in frustration. He needed so desperately for Kurt to believe him. "God, I love you! I would never do anything to hurt you, never again! That had nothing to do with me! That was low and cowardly and disgusting and you know what? Maybe you think I'm all those things—I wouldn't blame you if you did, but please, Kurt. Don't believe I could do that to you."

Kurt looked distraught, his blue eyes dropping to the ground. He buried his head in his hands and sighed as if he just wanted everything to go away.

"Kurt," Blaine said, scooting his chair closer to Kurt. He reached up and lowered Kurt's hands from his face, then held them in his own.

"I want to believe you," Kurt said, quietly.

"Believe me," Blaine nodded. "It's never just been screwing, Kurt. It's always been more, a lot more, so much more that it kind of scared me sometimes, but I wouldn't give any of it away, not for the world."

Kurt didn't look convinced. Blaine took a deep breath, then spoke, "Look," he said. "I'll prove it to you. I'll go in there, I'll walk up on that stage and I'll tell them. I'll tell them all that I'm gay. I'll tell them that I'm in love with you. I'll tell them that none of them know me at all. I'll do it, Kurt. I'll prove it to you. I—"

"Wait," Kurt said, pulling Blaine back down into the chair. "Don't do that."

"I have to—"

"Remember I told you that I don't want to be the thing that makes you come out against your will? I meant that. I believe you, okay? I do. I believe you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume, I just panicked. I was scared you were using me, scared that you could just hurt me like that. Scared—well. Just scared."

Blaine nodded, knowingly. "It's okay," he whispered. "I get it. I just—I want you to know that I would never hurt you. I'm done with their childish jokes. I'm yours for as long as you want me. They don't mean a thing. Just you."

Kurt sighed and he exhaled in broken breaths. Blaine entwined his fingers with Kurt's and looked right into his bright eyes. Kurt was blinking fast and Blaine could tell from the way he was taking contrived, slow, careful breaths that he was trying to hold back the tears.

"Hey," he said. "You can cry in front of me, you know? I won't judge you." Kurt took another shaky breath, then breathed out, a small sob escaping his throat. "I just don't think you should," Blaine finished and Kurt looked up at him with questioning eyes, his right eyebrow tilting upwards.

"Wh-what?"

"I don't think you should," Blaine repeated. "I think you should go back in there and show them that they didn't win with this stupid prank—or whatever you want to call it. I think you should go in there and smile, let them know they can't bring you down, that you're stronger than them."

Kurt was silent for a second and Blaine saw the tears welling in his red-rimmed eyes. A single tear trickled down his face and he made no move to stop it. Blaine reached up and dragged his thumb gently over the wet spot, catching it, killing it, making it disappear.

"I can't do it," Kurt said.

"You don't have to," Blaine informed him. "I just think they should know you're not afraid."

"But I _am _afraid—"

"No," Blaine shook his head. "No, you're not afraid. You're _hurt_ and I'd give anything to make that go away. But for now, all I can tell you to do is to be brave, like I know you are. Go in there, show them Kurt Hummel can't be knocked down by some stupid, childish, high-school prank. Show them the Kurt Hummel that's not afraid of what others think of him. Show them the Kurt Hummel that inspires me every day, because God, I could never be as brave as you are," Blaine prompted. "Show them the Kurt Hummel I fell in love with."

Kurt nibbled on his bottom lip, his hands shaking a little in Blaine's grasp. Blaine tightened his grip, hoping it came off as gesture of reassurance.

"I can't," Kurt shook his head after a long silence.

"I'll be there with you," Blaine reminded him. "I'll even hold your hand, if you want." Kurt shook his head, quickly. "Okay, I won't hold your hand, but I'll still be there and maybe that's not a huge consolation, but I just want you to know I'm there for you."

Kurt just stared down at their joined hands for a little while and Blaine watched him taking slow, steady breaths, trying to calm himself down.

"Um," Kurt coughed a little. "Won't people be wondering where you are?"

"I said I was going to check on Quinn."

"Oh," Kurt nodded. "She must be mad. She should have won."

Blaine gave Kurt a small nod. "Maybe," he said. "Can I tell you something?"

Kurt gave him another small nod and watched him, waiting for him to speak.

"When I was a kid," Blaine began, stroking Kurt's knuckles gently. "My mom would read me these stories. She was fine back then, nothing like she is now. Anyway, she would read me these stories about princes rescuing singing princesses from tall towers and she stopped one day, after I asked her a question."

Kurt was watching him intently. He was sniffling a little and his eyes were still shining with the beginning of tears.

"It's funny, because I only just remembered this a few weeks ago and it sort of triggered a lot of things in my mind," Blaine smiled a little. "I asked her what would happen if the prince got to the tower and there was no princess and she said of course, there was a princess, because otherwise, there wouldn't have been any singing. I told her that wasn't what I meant. I told her that what I meant was what if the prince got to the tower and there was another prince up there, somehow. She panicked a little, then. I didn't understand why back then, but I get it now. She told me that that was impossible and if it did happen that there would be something very wrong with both princes—"

"She said that?" Kurt asked a little incredulously.

Blaine nodded. "Yep," he confirmed. "When I got with Quinn, my mom asked me if I remembered that story—not the part where I asked the dreaded question that was obviously a sign of my flaming homosexuality," Blaine clarified and Kurt smiled a little. "She asked if I remembered the actual story and I told her I kind of did, a little bit. Do you know what she told me, then?" Kurt shook his head, no. "She told me that I'd found my princess. No joke, she really said that. She told me Quinn was my princess. She was starting to go at that point, so I could have blamed the medication, but that's actually how my mom is, Kurt. She's really not much better than my dad, minus the whole violence thing, I mean.

"The point is, Kurt," Blaine continued. "I realised that Quinn is definitely not my princess. I figured out that.. Well. _You are._"

Kurt gaped at him for a split second. "Okay," he said. "Okay, you don't have to rub this princess thing in, Bla—"

"I didn't mean that!" Blaine told him. "I meant that—and just a warning, this might be the cheesiest thing I have ever said in my life—I meant that I got to the top of that tower and I didn't find a princess, just as I expected. I found a prince. _You_. You're my prince, Kurt, as crazy and cliché as that might sound, it's true. It's you, it will always be you."

Kurt looked up at him, shaking his head slightly, and he was smiling, his chest quivering a little with trapped laughter. Blaine saw several tears slipping from his eyes and he tried to reach up to wipe them away, but Kurt only gripped his hands tighter.

"I'm afraid they whipped you right out of a romance novel, Blaine Anderson," Kurt chuckled, tears still coming. "I don't think I want to put you back in, though."

"Good," Blaine smiled, too. "Good, keep me here with you."

Kurt only smiled and looked back at Blaine threw those blue, watering eyes.

"You can do it, you know," Blaine uttered, finally reaching up to catch Kurt's tears with the sleeve of his jacket. "I know it was a mess and a sick joke, but when you look at the reality of it all, you should be up there with me."

Kurt looked thoughtful for a few heartbeats, then nodded. "I can do this."

"I know you can," Blaine grinned. He leaned across and placed a single kiss to Kurt's red, swelling lips. He tasted like salt and strawberries. "I love you."

* * *

><p>"You're not supposed to be in here!" Quinn screamed at Blaine when he walked through the door of the girls' bathroom. She was standing by the sink, wiping her black, mascara tears.<p>

"I just came to see if you were okay—"

"Well, I'm not!" Quinn snapped. "You should have saved yourself the trouble."

"If it helps, Kurt thinks you should have won," Blaine offered and Quinn groaned.

"Well, that's because _I should have won_!" she reasoned. "They have obviously figured it out!" She gestured towards her stomach. "I mean, look at me! I look like one of those people on 'The Biggest Loser'!"

Blaine smiled a little. She was far from huge, she was still small, just pregnant.

"I don't know what you're smiling about!" she shot back. "Voting you and him in probably means they know you're fucking him."

Blaine didn't point out that what he and Kurt were doing was not 'fucking', because Quinn looked as if she might attack him with something.

"Quinn, look," he sighed. "I know we sort of don't like each other, but honestly, you're not fat and they didn't do this because they know about you, or about me. They did this because it's their idea of a joke, okay? They wanted to hurt him, so they hurt him. End of story. They didn't think past that. They didn't think about you, or about me, or about the possibility of you being pregnant, or me sleeping with Kurt. They just think that they're clever."

Quinn groaned and slumped back against the wall as best as she could in the dress. She seemed to have calmed down a little. "I just don't want to be me any more," she told him, quietly. "Do you ever feel like that? That you just want to be someone else, even though you thought you had it all?"

"Every day," Blaine told her. "There are things I wish I could change every day."

"Like loving cock?"

Blaine choked a little. "Um, no," he said, clearing his throat. "Like not being brave enough to tell everyone that I do. Like the world not being accepting enough. Like the hurt I've caused so many people. All of that. What about you?"

"The baby," she said, immediately. "I would never have had sex with Puckerman. The guy's a tool."

Blaine laughed a little. He decided Quinn was okay, even if she was a huge bitch and a snob. She was just trying to find her way. "Have you told your parents?"

"Do I look dead?" Quinn asked. "Don't answer that."

"We never talked when we were together," Blaine said.

"That's because we hated each other," she informed him. "Did you ever even like me?"

Blaine wavered here. He couldn't tell her flat out that he couldn't stand her. He shrugged. "I—we were never really very alike."

"That's okay," Quinn nodded. "I didn't ever like you. I mean, you're hot, obviously, but I just—Yeah. We were never very alike."

Blaine only nodded. This was the most they had ever talked, their first real conversation and it was when their relationship had ended.

"Do you love him?"

Blaine looked up. He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"You're really having sex with him?" she grimaced.

"Yes," he said again.

"Ew," Quinn said, nose wrinkling around the bridge. Blaine frowned. She stood up straight and wiped her eyes in the mirror. "Okay, whatever. I'm going home."

Blaine watched her as she walked to the door and pulled it open. She turned back.

"The deal still remains, Anderson," she apprised him, the old Quinn back. "You tell anyone and I'll have your name and the word 'faggot' printed and posted and spray painted every where."

"God, Quinn, you speak so eloquently," Blaine quipped back. "How did they not crown you princess?"

* * *

><p>Blaine sat back in the throne, because Figgins had told him to. Mercedes ended her song and the hall went silent, because Kurt had pushed the doors open and walked through. All eyes were on him and he looked terrified. Blaine caught his eye and gave him a nod of encouragement, trying to send him a message with his mind.<p>

_You can do this._

* * *

><p>Kurt climbed onto the stage, the entire hall eerily silent. Blaine was sitting in the fake throne, watching him with wide, hazel eyes. The crown was back on his head now. Kurt's heart was hammering violently in his chest and he felt light headed and a little sick, but he could do this. He had to do this. It was the only way to show them they hadn't won.<p>

Principle Figgins gave him a sad smile as he placed the tiara on his head. The hall was still painfully silent and he saw his friends looking at him with piteous eyes. He was tired of pity, he could'nt deal with pity any more.

Kurt stepped forward and took the microphone stand in his shaky hands. He leaned his head closer and spoke.

"McKinley," he began. "I don't know if you realised it, but you just made me royalty. Which means I reign over all of you. Thanks, guys!" He grinned across at the footballers, who were watching him with their mouths hanging open, then turned, his head held high and took a seat next to Blaine.

The hall remained silent for another couple of seconds, then Figgins spoke into the mic. "Okay! McKinley!" he said. "Proceed with having fun! New Directions, where is the music?"

Tina, Brittany and Rory quickly ran on stage and started to sing a song Kurt didn't know. It was a lively number, thankfully. Kurt glanced sideways at Blaine, who was smiling.

"That was really brave," Blaine told him.

"I might have to see a doctor about how quickly my heart is thumping," Kurt joked.

Blaine laughed a little. "In all seriousness, though," he said. "I'm really proud of you for doing that."

"Thanks," Kurt said, smiling. "I'm sorry I accused you of being in cahoots with them. I just lost it a little, I guess. I don't really think you're anything like them."

Blaine sighed a little. "I'm glad you don't," he informed him. "I try my best not to be."

"I don't think you have to try," Kurt said, elbow brushing Blaine's. It was strange, being on show like that, up on a platform, with the rest of the world below. "Did Quinn go home?"

Blaine gave an inclination of his head. "Yeah," he said. "She had a bit of a breakdown, then threatened me and left. No different than usual," he shrugged his shoulders.

"You need a ride home?" Kurt asked, hopefully.

"Yes, actually. Her dad dropped us off," Blaine told him. "But first, I think I'll have a few words with my good friends Noah, David and Kenneth."

"Blaine," Kurt said, warningly. He didn't want Blaine to get in a fight over him. He was tired of fights and disputes and all of the drama. He just wanted to move on from it all. They would be out of there soon enough.

"I said 'a few words', Kurt, not that I would 'break a few arms'," Blaine chuckled as Tina began her solo. "Relax."

Kurt was unconvinced. He stayed quiet, just listening to the sound of Tina's almost soothing voice.

"I can't just let them get away with it," Blaine said, beside him.

"What's your excuse going to be?" Kurt asked and Blaine reacted with a confused expression. "I mean, what explanation can you give for defending the gay kid?" Blaine was quiet and Kurt heard him sighing in defeat. He knew, however, that it wasn't very likely that Blaine would let it go. "See?" Kurt said. "I don't need you to defend me, even though I very much appreciate it. It's fine. Keep your fists to yourself. We're almost out of here."

"You mean, you are." Kurt looked around at him quizzically. This probably wasn't the best time to have that conversation. "Sorry, I didn't mean anything by that," Blaine shook his head and inched closer to Kurt, their arms pressed flush against each other. "I think it's a night for our field, Kurt," he sighed, happily.

"_Our_ field?" Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow in question. "Since when is _your _field _ours_?"

"Since always," Blaine grinned. Kurt sat back and nudged his arm closer to Blaine's. He didn't understand, but he decided there was no need for further comment. However, Blaine felt differently. "The field was never just meant for me, it was meant for you, too, because like I told you, it's always been you. It always will be."

Kurt smiled, then, his heart skipping a little. "My boyfriend, the romantic," he teased.

"My boyfriend, the cynic," Blaine baited, his knee touching Kurt's. Kurt looked around. It didn't seem as if anyone was watching. "Your romantic boyfriend loves you, Kurt Hummel," Blaine smiled. Kurt still felt awful about not saying he loved him back, but he didn't think the time was right, just yet. He would get there, eventually.

Kurt nodded and gave Blaine a smile, then looked out into the crowd and listened to Tina still singing. He whispered, loudly over her voice, "Your cynical boyfriend knows."

* * *

><p><strong>So, yeah, the canon thing, but changed :) I'm planning on having a Blaine KarofskyPuck/Kenny confrontation next so, I'll try my best to get the next part up tomorrow :)**

-candy No, you can just make an account. And thank you! :)

-and to everyone else reviewing on anon that I can't get back to, THANK YOU SO MUCH! :)


	25. Chapter 25

**I own nothing! I quickly wrote this in under 3 hours, so if there are spelling mistakes, or word mistakes, or whatever, I'm sorry, I'll give it a read over tomorrow. Again, ittlbitz made me a picture for the previous chapter ittlebitz(.)tumblr(.)com/post/17144583820/posting-resized-version **

**(Someone messaged me on tumblr on anon asking if they could make something for it and seriously, I flailed, because that would make my life. Please do, anon.)**

**Anyway, yeah, done :) **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25:<strong>

"I can't take you seriously with that thing on," Kurt laughed. "Oh my God, Blaine, don't do that! Blai—Ah! Okay! No," Kurt chuckled, sitting up. "Blaine, no—I'm just.." Kurt reached up and pulled the cheap tiara off Blaine's head.

It was around 7AM (Kurt had checked his phone) and the sun was a large ball of light in the pale sky. It was freezing and Kurt's breaths came out in small puffs of smoke. It didn't help that he was naked with only Blaine's body heat and a thin layer of blanket that usually covered the back seat of his car, to keep him warm.

Kurt was tilted onto his side, his left leg hitched up across the side of Blaine's right thigh and Blaine was slipping his finger in and out of his entrance, which was still a bit sensitive from what they had done the night before. Blaine was breathing into the crook of Kurt's neck and grinding his erection a little against Kurt's thigh as he fingered him open.

Kurt let the tiara go and gave in with a sigh, because Blaine was crooking his fingers in just the right way and it was turning him on to hear him panting against his skin like that. He could feel Blaine's heart beating away against his body and his chest was rising and falling in time with his own. When they were this close, Kurt always felt sort of connected to Blaine.

"Mmph," Blaine murmured against Kurt's neck, his teeth nipping the skin very gently. "I love having my fingers inside you."

"I know," Kurt told him and he tried of laugh, but Blaine reached up with his free hand and pulled his lips down to meet his own. Kurt allowed Blaine to kiss him lazily, his tongue slipping through his teeth and finding Kurt's, falling into a steady rhythm. Blaine's fingers were still pushing through Kurt's opening. They were moving more freely now that he was stretched a little more.

Blaine's left hand was pressed lightly to the side of Kurt's pale neck and Kurt inched his own hand lower to touch Blaine's hard cock, which was no digging uncomfortably into his stomach. Blaine deepened the kiss when Kurt touched him and after only three or four strokes, Blaine was already coming.

"Fuck," Blaine whispered, once he had torn his mouth off Kurt's. He pressed his forehead against his and it was warm and sweaty. The movements of Blaine's fingers had slowed a little and Kurt found himself needing him to move them quickly again, because he was close after having seen Blaine come so fast just from a few short strokes.

"Blaine," Kurt breathed, pressing himself down over Blaine's fingers. Blaine cursed quietly.

"Sorry," he uttered, before speeding his fingers up again. "God, you're perfect."

Kurt couldn't reply. His eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted as he felt the climax building higher and higher and then Blaine's other hand was pumping away on his cock and it was all too much for him to take. The world went white around the edges and his vision blurred as he came hard and fast, with a moan that sounded suspiciously like Blaine's name. Blaine didn't stop his fingers, nor his pumping hand until Kurt had come down from the orgasm completely.

Blaine collapsed on top of him and they breathed together for a long time. Blaine's body was cold against Kurt's from the waist upwards.

"Field sex," Blaine told him after a while. "Is slowly becoming my favourite kind of sex."

"Field sex is filthy," Kurt pointed out.

"_Exactly_!" Blaine grinned and kissed him a thousand and one times and Kurt forgot his own name.

* * *

><p>Blaine dropped Kurt off at home, because he had told his dad he was staying at Rachel's after the dance. Blaine went back to his house, got changed out of the creased up suit and showered. He got dressed, then went downstairs. His dad wasn't home and his mom was watching re-runs of 'Criminal Minds'. Blaine slipped back out the door and got back in his car and started to drive.<p>

He had pretended with Kurt, pretended that he had forgotten about how mad he was at the footballers, but every time he thought back to the awful silence and then the spine tingling laughter, his blood boiled.

Blaine didn't have a plan yet, so he drove aimlessly for a while. Eventually, he found himself at Puck's house. He sat in his car for at least ten minutes, then opened the door and walked up the pathway. He had done this a million times before, but circumstances were different now.

"Anderson," Puck grinned when he opened the door. Blaine ignored the hand he held up in anticipation of a high five and simply walked past him into the entrance hall. "What's going on?"

"We need to have a talk," Blaine informed him.

Puck shrugged, yawned and then gestured for Blaine to follow him into the living room. They sat facing one another and Puck hit the TV off. "I know what this is about," he stated, then yawned again.

"Do you," Blaine deadpanned and he didn't even make it a question, because he was pretty sure Puck had no clue what this was about.

"This is about the thing with Hummel."

Blaine froze. Okay, maybe he did know. Blaine wondered if Kenny had told him everything. His stomach turned and he felt a little sick and nervous, but he tried to maintain his bored expression, tried to pretend that it was no big deal.

"Look, dude," Puck said. "Nobody even cared that you were voted in with him. All that people were laughing at was Hummel, so chill. It won't do anything to screw you up, so chillax."

Oh. Puck thought he was here to talk about the fact that being voted as prince to Kurt's princess would make him look bad. He should have known Puck would come up with something like that. Blaine sighed.

"Actually, no," he shook his head. "I actually wanted to say that I thought it was a dumb thing to do. And how come no one told me about it?"

"Because you and Hummel have to meet up for some assignment, right? We didn't want it slipping out."

"You're an asshole, Puckerman," Blaine told him.

"What the—"

"Seriously, why would you do something like that? I mean, there is nothing even remotely funny about what happened last night. It was low and fucking stupid."

"It was totally funny!" Puck grinned. "Did you _see_ Hummel's face? Priceless!"

Blaine stood up then and clenched his fists hard. Puck gave him this quizzical look, then stood up, too, staring at him like he was frothing at the mouth. Blaine felt as if he could, anyway. Yeah, he had seen Kurt's face, he'd held his hand and told him it would be okay. He had wiped his tears and kissed his lips and tried to put him back together after what they had done to him.

"You think making a kid cry is funny?" Blaine asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Uh, yeah," Puck said, matter-of-factly. "What the hell has gotten into you, Anderson? Remember that time Jacob Ben whatever-his-name-is tripped over his shoe lace and he landed inside that garbage can? He cried and you totally laughed."

"Laughing at someone tripping up is totally different to showing someone up because of their sexuality in front of the entire student body, Puckerman!" Blaine snapped. "Actually, maybe it's not that different, but we can't go on doing this forever! Can you not see how fucking ridiculous this is? We act like we rule the school, like nothing can touch us, but we can't go on like that forever. Yeah, there'll always be a social divide, but.. That, last night, went beyond anything we have ever done. How the fuck did you even pull that off?"

Puck was staring at him, open mouthed. "Um," he said, slowly. "We had Jacob set it up. He was in charge of all that. Dude, where is the fire? I don't get why you're so mad about some fag—"

"I'm mad because it's not fair, Puck!" Blaine apprised him. "I'm mad because everyone at this fucking school thinks everyone is supposed to be a certain way and if they're not, then, what the hell, let's make their lives a misery until we go out into the real world and realise that, hey, not everyone is that certain way we always thought we were supposed to be. Can't you see how pointless doing that to Kurt Hummel was? What can you gain from a thing like that? Ten minutes of laughter and a black eye?"

Puck gave him a confused look. "A black eye? I don't ha—"

Blaine punched him then, because he was through with this conversation. If Puck was just going to be an asshole about it, he didn't want to waste any more time standing around arguing with him about it.

Blaine walked past Puck, who was clutching his face and shooting Blaine this stunned expression. Blaine ignored him and headed upstairs to find Kenny. He didn't stop to knock once he had reached Kenny's room, he simply threw the door open and walked inside. Blaine froze because Kenny was not alone.

"Perfect," Blaine said, with a small smile, once Kenny and Dave had sat up in the bed and were staring at him with wide eyes. "I can kill two birds with one stone. You have ten minutes to get your clothes on and clean yourselves up before I tell the whole town."

* * *

><p>"Wow, Karofsky," Blaine said, once he had gone back inside to find Kenny and Karofsky fully dressed and sitting far apart. "You look mortified. Do you want to know who else looked mortified a little less than, oh, I don't know, twelve hours ago?"<p>

"Look, Anderso—"

"I wasn't actually addressing you, Kenneth, please wait your turn," Blaine said, keeping his eyes on Karofsky, who was looking down at his feet. "Kurt Hummel," Blaine provided. "You remember him, don't you, David? The guy you shoved in a dark closet and tried to get his clothes off?"

"I never—" Karofsky protested, but Blaine spoke over him.

"You remember Kurt, right, Kenny?" he smiled. "The one you drugged just so that he would go to bed with you?"

They were both silent, even Kenny for once in his life. Blaine folded his arms and leaned back against the wall, looking back and forth between the two of them. Karofsky still looked terrified and Kenny looked far from amused.

"So, let me ask you a straight question—On second thoughts, that won't work will it? Since we're all gay here, after all," he said. "So, tell me. What part of showing a kid up because of his sexuality was funny to you? I mean, Puck, I can kind of understand, he doesn't know what it's like to be something that the rest of the world deems wrong. You two know exactly how it feels. So, seriously, enlighten me, because I don't understand."

"It wasn't our ide—"

"Whose idea it was is beside the point, Dave," Blaine frowned. "The point is that you went along with it and even laughed at it. So, what's the deal? I mean, I was of the opinion that you sort of liked Kurt Hummel, from what I saw that day in the janitor's closet anyway." Karofsky groaned, angrily. "And from the way you're always hitting on him and sending him inappropriate songs," Blaine looked to Kenny. "I figured you sort of liked him, too. So, I fail to see the connection here, boys."

"It's not about him being gay, you fucking idiot!" Kenny protested, dark eyes wild. "It's about him being a fucking weak little girl! Don't you get it? He acts like a princess, so he was crowned princess! It all fits perfectly!"

"Does it?" Blaine asked, going closer. He needed to calm down or he was going to end up with both Kenny and Karofsky punching the crap out of him. "Do you even know Kurt Hummel? I guess, you don't, actually. I mean, how much can one find out about a guy when they've given them drugs? I wouldn't know, but I'm guessing not much."

Kenny gave him an angry glare. Karofsky looked away, quickly, obviously not wanting Blaine to bring up the closet incident again.

"The thing about Kurt Hummel," Blaine went on. "Is that he might be slight and a little more elegant than the rest of us, but he's so much stronger than all three of us combined. Me and you, Dave, we hide. We act like we're still these big, tough, straight guys, but we're not. We're about as straight as a God damned roundabout. And you," Blaine said, looking back to Kenny. "You hide behind the man-slut image, acting as if all you think about is sex and getting people's clothes off and maybe you do, I don't know, but that can't be all you think about. There has to be a point when you turn all that off and just come home and be yourself."

They were gaping at him, now, looking as if they had no idea where this was going. Blaine wished he had simply punched both of them and then left, but he couldn't. He had a lot to say.

"Kurt is completely himself, 24/7," Blaine informed them. "That's what makes him better than us. He doesn't give a shit about what the rest of us think he should be, he just goes ahead and does what he wants. He's not afraid to be who he really is. He's better than us, stronger than us, he's something we could only ever wish to be. So, don't give me that crap about him being a princess, Kenny. Kurt Hummel is someone you both wish you could be like and that's why you're taking this out on him. I wish I could be like him, too, but I can't hate him because he's braver than I am. Hating him and hurting him doesn't make it easier, it won't help you in any way to do that to him. So, you may as well stop now, while you're ahead."

"_Please_," Kenny scoffed, standing up straight. "You're just saying that because you're fucking him. If Hummel wasn't putting out, if he wasn't letting you fuck his fine ass, you'd be standing here laughing with the rest of us, Anderson. You're using him for the sex and he thinks it means something, bless him. Or, hey, maybe he's using you, too! Don't think I don't notice when either one of you is walking funny at school. I know what you've been up to and by the looks of it, Hummel is a complete cock slut—"

Blaine moved forward and in a flash, he had Kenny pinned roughly to the wall. Blaine's heart was hammering away inside his chest and he was just so mad that he didn't know if he wanted to punch him or scream. He tried to remain calm, because he didn't need to get into a wrestling match with these two.

"You're not even worth it," Blaine snarled, loosening his grip on Kenny. Kenny straightened himself up, breathing heavily.

Blaine turned and looked at Karofsky. "Got anything to add?" Karofsky shook his head. "You know he's only using you, right?" Blaine asked Dave. "He's not getting it anywhere else, so he's using you. I—You know what? Fuck it, you're using each other, obviously. You guys deserve each other. Neither of you are worth hurting my fists over. But if either of you even look at Kurt Hummel again, I'll make an exception."

Blaine gave them a final glare, before turning around and walking out of the room, his entire body shaking with anger.

"I'm going to tell fucking everyone about you, Anderson!" Kenny shouted after him. "Everyone's gonna know you're screwing pretty boy Hummel! EVERYONE!"

"So tell them," Blaine shouted back, sounding unscathed. He waited until he was in the privacy of his own car to stop and think about what he had just done. He was screwed. Once everyone found out, his dad would find out and then everything would be gone. Well, except Kurt, possibly, though who knew if he would even live long enough to see Kurt again if his dad found out about it. Blaine sighed and cursed himself for not listening to Kurt, but he did feel a bit better after having had it out with them.

"Screw it," Blaine uttered, as he began his way home.

Maybe everyone finding out was a good thing, in a way. He was tired of pretending, tired of being someone he wasn't. The only problem was that he might not get a chance to live life as the real Blaine Anderson, because his father was absolutely nuts and very homophobic and if he found out, Blaine didn't even want to contemplate what might happen.

There was nothing he could do about it now.

* * *

><p>"I need to see you."<p>

"Um, hi," Kurt said into his phone. "Is it all the craze to answer the phone with a random phrase instead of a good old fashioned 'hello'?"

"Sorry," Blaine muttered. "Hi, Kurt, it's Blaine, I hope you're well, what fine weather we're having, I need to see you."

Kurt sat up a little. Blaine sounded funny. "Um, okay, you're being sardonic," Kurt said, slowly. "What's wrong?"

He heard Blaine sighing on the other end. "I'm scared."

Kurt's mind started envisioning all these awful scenarios, most of which involving Blaine's dad and his violent nature. He was beyond worried about him. "Why?" he asked, quickly. "Blaine, are you okay?"

"I sort of went round to Puck's after I took you home."

Kurt's heart sank. He wasn't sure what to think. "And?"

"And I had it out with him and then I punched him," Blaine said. "Then I went upstairs to find Kenny—"

"Blaine," Kurt groaned, frustrated.

"I know, okay? But I couldn't not say anything!"

"Yes," Kurt told him. "You could."

He was flattered that Blaine wanted to protect him, it touched him in a way that he had never been touched before, but he didn't want Blaine to get into trouble over it.

"No, I couldn't," Blaine said. "Anyway, so I went upstairs and found Karofsky in his bed."

"You're kidding!"

"Would I joke about a thing like that?" Blaine asked ad Kurt was relieved to her the smile in his voice. "So, I gave them a piece of my mind and then Kenny said he would tell everyone and I told him to do it."

Kurt was silent for a few heartbeats. "You didn't."

"I did," Blaine affirmed. "I know I keep telling you I'll do it, that I'll just come out, but when the possibility of it happening is staring me straight in the face, it terrifies me."

"I know," Kurt said, softly. "You think he'll really do it?"

"I have no idea," Blaine said. He sounded miserable. "But I just need to see you, okay? Because if he does and my dad finds out, I don't know what's going to happen."

"Don't say tha—"

"It's true, Kurt," Blaine uttered. "I just need to see you and show you I love you, because it might be my last chance."

"Blaine," Kurt sighed.

"What?"

"Shut the fuck up being so dramatic and weigh your options."

"Options?" Blaine asked, voice laced with bewilderment.

Kurt explained to Blaine that he was eighteen years old, that he didn't have to stand for what his father was doing. Of course, he shouldn't have ever had to stand for the abuse and the violence and all of that other stuff, but Blaine considered this to be pretty serious and drastic, so he really needed to do something about it.

"When he confronts you about it, stand your ground," Kurt urged. "You can come here, you know. My dad would be fine with it."

"I guess."

"You know he probably won't tell anyone," Kurt soothed. "He didn't tell anyone last time and as bad as he is, we all know what it's like to be gay and not wanting anyone to know. My bet is that he won't say anything."

"But how do you know that?" Blaine choked out.

"Because I'm magic," Kurt grinned. He heard Blaine laughing then and it gave him a sense of accomplishment.

"I love you, you know that?" Blaine told him. "I don't care if you never say it back, if you never love me, I just want you to know how much I love you."

Kurt swallowed hard. "You don't care if I never say I love you back?"

"Okay, I do care," Blaine informed him. "But I don't want you to say it just to make me feel better about it."

"I would never do that."

"I know," Blaine said, happily. "Until you know for sure, I'm just going to keep on telling you I love you."

Kurt smiled, because it seemed as if Blaine understood, even if he didn't know every detail behind the reason he hadn't said it back yet.

"I think I might have the perfect boyfriend," Kurt chuckled.

"I think I might, too."

* * *

><p>"Hummel?"<p>

"Let me in, Kenny."

Kenny stood back and Kurt walked inside, aware of his eyes roving over his back side. Kurt turned and faced him, scowling.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Kenny smiled.

"Can we talk in private?"

"Why, Kurt Hummel, are you inviting yourself into my bedroom?" Kenny smirked.

"Do I look like Dave Karofsky?" Kurt deadpanned.

Kenny's smirk fell and he sighed and gestured for Kurt to follow him upstairs to his room. When they went inside, Kurt shuddered, remembering how he had felt that morning when he had believed he and Kenny had..

"So, what's this about?" Kenny asked, sitting down on his bed.

"I need you to not tell anyone about Blaine."

Kenny laughed cruelly, then. "Oh, yeah?" he asked. "What's in it for me?"

"Um, you get to pride yourself for being a decent human being for once in your life?" Kurt offered, weakly.

"No can do, Hummel."

"What do you want?"

"You."

"I'm off limits, taken, spoken for, all that," Kurt told him and he smiled to himself, because that was true.

Kenny sat up straight and smiled, tilting his head a little, dark eyes studying Kurt. Kurt shivered, because Kenny was an absolute creep.

"Stop ogling me," Kurt demanded. "I don't have anything on you, Kenny and I don't believe in blackmail anyway, so I'm just asking you as one gay guy to another, who knows what it's like to not want anyone to find out your deepest, darkest secret, I'm asking you to not do this to him."

"Why?" Kenny asked, shaking his head. "I don't get it. He's an asshole, he's walking down the halls with his girlfriend by day and screwing you by night. What gives?"

"It's none of your business," Kurt muttered.

Kenny stood up, then. "So, I'm making it my business. You tell me and I'll keep quiet about your sordid love affair."

Kurt sighed. It was the only way he could get him to keep quiet. But..

"No," Kurt shook his head. "No, if I tell you this, I'll have to ask you to keep quiet about that, too."

"Time's a-ticking, Hummel."

Kurt took a deep breath. He didn't have to tell Kenny everything, after all. "Blaine and I are dating, but in secret," he told him. "Quinn knows, but she's agreed to keep quiet."

"Now, why would she do a thing like that?" Kenny enquired. "Unless she has a secret of her own!"

Kurt was afraid he would ask that. Quinn's secret was not his to tell. "Um, no," Kurt said, slowly. "She's just decided to be a decent human being and not tell the world. You could try that, Kenny. I bet it'd make you feel good inside."

"You know what else could make me feel good?" Kenny tilted an eyebrow and gave Kurt a wide smile.

"Karofsky?"

"Screw Karofsky!" Kenny exploded, smile disappearing.

"I thought you already did," Kurt stated and Kenny scowled at him. "So, do we have an agreement or not?"

"Oh, I wasn't going to tell anyone anyway, Hummel," Kenny told him. "But I wouldn't mind a blow job."

"Well, if I see Dave Karofsky on my way home, I'll be sure to send him over. Nice talking to you."

* * *

><p>"You went over there?" Blaine yelled and Kurt had to hold the phone away from his ear a little bit. "Are you nuts?"<p>

"Possibly," Kurt smiled. "But the good news is that he said he wouldn't say anything. We're fine." He heard Blaine groaning. "What now?"

"I was sort of getting myself used to the idea of being outed," Blaine told him. "I mean, yeah, I was still scared, but I'm so fucking tired of hiding. I can't bring myself to do it, so maybe it would have been better for him to do it for me."

"Being outed by someone else is not a good thing, Blaine," Kurt frowned.

"I know," he said, quietly. "But don't you think the truth is better than lying all the time?"

Kurt sighed again and sat back against his pillows. Blaine just did not understand. He thought he did, but he didn't. "I know you think it'll be okay once you tell the truth, but it won't, Blaine," Kurt told him, sadly. "Once you're out, you've got to deal with so much stuff. Trust me, I know. I just think you need to do this in your own time. Nobody else has the right to out you. If you're still terrified, then you're not ready. It's not long ago that you admitted it to yourself, let it sink in properly, then worry about coming out. For now, just try and get through school, okay?"

"When are you going to stop being so sensible and do something completely crazy?" Blaine teased.

"I do something completely crazy almost every day," Kurt pointed out.

"Oh, yeah?" Blaine asked. "What's that?"

"You."

* * *

><p><strong>Next update will probably be Tuesday. Let me know what you thought! :)<strong>


	26. Chapter 26

**I own nothing! I don't know if you'll hate me after this, or if you'll be happy, or a mixture of both. Probably the latter lol. **

**-also, people have actually made stuff for this fic and I continue to weep every time they do, you can see them here: likechildreninafairytale(.)tumblr(.)com/tagged/sideways**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 26:<strong>

"Where have you been?"

Blaine closed the front door behind him and turned to face his father who was standing by the staircase with his arms folded across his chest. He was wearing a suit and tie and his expression was sour.

"Um, school," Blaine said, simply.

His dad blinked a couple of times. "Until 9PM?"

Blaine didn't bother pointing out that it was actually about 8.15, he simply shrugged and said, "I had to work on an assignment with my English partner." He also didn't add the fact that working on an assignment with his English partner had ended with some intense making out in his car.

"The gay one?"

"Yes, dad, the gay one," Blaine said, unable to hold back a sigh. "Does it matter?"

"Everything matters, Blaine."

Blaine resisted the urge to point out that his father was being a hypocrite in saying everything mattered. As far as his father was concerned, glee club didn't matter, Blaine's happiness didn't matter, _Blaine didn't matter._

"You should be ready to hear back from all those colleges you applied to soon," his father went on and Blaine's stomach did a flip. "It's lucky you applied to so many places, or I would be worried, what with that stunt you pulled with abandoning the game for singing."

"Um, yeah," Blaine uttered. "Lucky."

* * *

><p>Blaine felt Kurt nudging him with his elbow during English. He glanced sideways at him and saw he was pushing his notebook towards him. Blaine looked down to see Kurt's neat handwriting on the side of the page.<p>

_Blaine.  
><em>~~~

**?  
><strong>~~~

_.. Never mind.  
>~~~<em>

**Wait. What. What?  
><strong>~~~

Kurt didn't write back, he simply sat there, lips tight, staring up at the front of the classroom.

**~~~  
>Kurt?<br>Kurt, come on.  
>Kurt. Kurt, I love you.<br>**~~~

_Don't write that on paper.  
><em>

**What did you want to tell me?  
><strong>~~~

_Nothing, I'm mad at you.  
><em>~~~

**Why?  
><strong>~~~

_Because question mark.  
><em>~~~

**I'm sorry. I take it back. Tell me.  
><strong>~~~

Blaine saw Kurt stifle a smile out of the corner of his eye, then he took his pen and scribbled.

_~~~  
>Can we talk? I mean, after school?<br>_~~~

**Are you breaking up with me?  
><strong>~~~

_Blaine.  
><em>~~~

**Seriously, though. Are you breaking up with me? If you are, I'd rather you just did it now.  
><strong>~~~

_Through a note passed during English?  
><em>~~~

**Oh my God, you are! You're breaking up with me!  
><strong>~~~

_Will you relax?  
><em>~~~

**Not if you're breaking up with me!  
><strong>~~~

_Blaine.  
><em>~~~

**? ? ?  
><strong>~~~

_Blaine. R E L A X.  
><em>~~~

**Sooooooooooo...  
>You're NOT breaking up with me?<br>~~~ **

_No. I am not breaking up with you.  
><em>~~~

**Because you know I love you, right?  
>Oh.<br>Good.  
>That's good.<br>Okay. So, what do we need to talk about?  
><strong>~~~

_Meet me after school, okay?  
><em>~~~

**But..  
><strong>**Okay :)  
><strong>~~~

* * *

><p>"You have had me freaking out all day," Blaine said when Kurt walked through the hedges to the familiar field. Blaine was sitting in the grass, picking the white petals off of a daisy. Kurt went and sat next to him.<p>

"Okay," Kurt said and took a deep breath. "I need to ask you something."

"Shoot," Blaine shrugged, but Kurt could tell he was afraid of what was to come.

"Blaine, where did you apply to college?"

Kurt watched as Blaine's fingers stopped tugging the daisy petals, his face freezing. His eyes were wide and his mouth was stretched into a thin, tight line.

"Oh, we're having this conversation," Blaine said, sounding frightened.

Kurt nodded, because they had to have it at some time, didn't they? They were nearing the end of school and they needed to talk about this, get everything straightened out and settled and easy to understand. Right now, Kurt had no idea what was going to happen. They needed to have this talk.

"I didn't apply anywhere."

Kurt gaped at him for a long time, the rustle of the leaves in the wind the only sound for miles.

"Um," Kurt said, stunned. "What?"

"I told my dad I did," he explained. "But I don't know what I want to do. I thought football was my ticket out of here, but I don't want to play football any more. By the time I realised I should probably have applied to places that would allow me to play football, it was too late."

"So," Kurt said, carefully. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know," Blaine sighed, laying back and folding his arms behind his head. "Get a job, if I live that long. My dad won't be happy when he finds out, so who knows?"

Kurt shook his head. This changed everything.

"Will you sit up for a minute and look at me?"

Blaine studied him with knitted brows, then sat up and gave him a quizzical look. Kurt reached inside his pocket and produced a white envelope, then handed it to Blaine. Blaine opened it, slowly, as if he was afraid that snakes might pop out. Eventually, he got it open and lifted the letter out. He unfolded it, then read it. Kurt looked away.

"You.." he trailed off, then looked up to meet Kurt's eyes. Kurt was surprised to see Blaine was smiling. "You got into college! In New York!" Kurt nodded, slowly. "Why aren't you happy about this?"

"Um," Kurt said and gave Blaine a meaningful look.

Blaine looked bewildered for a couple of heart beats, then realisation dawned on his face. "Oh," he said, quietly. "Us. You mean us."

Kurt gave Blaine a slow nod.

"So, um, what exactly did you want to, um, say?"

"I don't know," Kurt sighed. "I figured you would have a plan. I know we didn't talk about it much. Were we trying to push it away? By not talking about it? That was dumb, wasn't it? Damn."

Blaine was watching him, his head tilted sideways.

"I guess in my mind I hoped you had applied to somewhere sort of close by," Kurt admitted. "But, um, I guess not.."

"I should have," Blaine muttered.

"It's not your fault," Kurt told him. "You had a lot going on, we didn't know what—what _this _was, not for a long time."

They were both silent then, the trees still rustling loudly and the soft breeze casting small goose bumps all along their skin.

"So, what now?" Blaine whispered, finally.

Kurt took a deep breath and told him exactly what he was thinking. "Maybe we should.." He took another inhale, then exhaled slowly. "Maybe we should just—just break up."

* * *

><p>"What?"<p>

"I said—"

"I heard what you said!" Blaine said, a little hysterically. He was done being calm, this was serious. "Are you kidding me?"

Blaine watched through wide eyes as Kurt shook his head, slowly.

"No," he said. "No, I think it's for the best."

Blaine couldn't think straight. He hated when he was having a heated conversation and his mind became a muddle. Not that this was really a heated conversation, but Blaine was too flustered to be capable of composing his thoughts in his head.

"I don't get it," he said, truthfully. "I thought we were okay. More than okay, actually."

"Do you know how hard it's going to be to just—just break away when the time comes?" Kurt asked, blue eyes boring into Blaine. "If we spend every day for the rest of the time we're at school together, then we're going to have a hard time saying goodbye. At least if we do it this way, we'll be used to not being together, we'll get through it easier."

"So..." Blaine trailed off, shaking his head. "So, you don't even want to _try _and stay together?"

"It's not that I don't want to, Blai—"

"It certainly seems that way, Kurt," Blaine told him, heart beat racing far too quickly.

"Blaine," Kurt groaned. "I just don't want you to think you have to sit around waiting for me, while I'm there and you're here."

Blaine couldn't really fathom Kurt's thought process. "Oh," he said, then. "Is this about you wanting someone better than me? Because if it is, yeah, I get it. I don't like it, obviously, but I do get it, because I've been nothing but trouble since the start of this."

"Blaine, stop—"

"Why?" Blaine asked, voice breaking a little. God, he was not going to cry, not now. "Explain it to me. Properly. Don't leave me without an explanation."

"Look," Kurt said, after a long pause. "This is not about me wanting someone better than you. There _isn't _anyone better than you, Blaine, at least not for me. But I can't be there, knowing you're here feeling obligated to wait for me to come back so we can be together. You don't deserve that."

"Keep going."

Kurt sighed, tiredly. "I just think now is a good time to do it, before it's too late."

"Before it's too late?" Blaine asked, voice raising a little.

"Blaine, don't—"

"_I love you,_" Blaine stressed. "You don't think it's already too late?"

"You'll get over me—" Blaine snorted and Kurt sighed, yet again. "Do you think I want this, Blaine?"

Blaine only shrugged. He was stubborn sometimes.

"I don't want this," Kurt clarified. "I want us, I do, but.."

"You told me you weren't breaking up with me," Blaine pointed out, which was probably a childish thing to do, but he was in no mood for being mature right now.

"That was because I thought we could work something out," Kurt told him. "But you didn't apply anywhere. I just.. I wasn't expecting that."

"I've given everything up for you."

"No," Kurt said, adamantly. "No, you haven't. Don't pull that one on me, Blaine Anderson. If I had never come into your life, you would still find yourself having to hide who you are. I didn't make you gay, you were already gay and maybe, had I not shown up, maybe it would have taken you longer to realise, but no. You're not guilt tripping me with this one."

"I didn't mean to," Blaine said, quietly. He hadn't meant to accuse him of that, he had just gotten so frustrated and scared, that words had spilled from his mouth before he could think the better of it. "I just.. I don't want to lose you." Blaine paused, then breathed in for a long time. His chest felt tight.

"I'm sorry."

"I love you."

"I know you do," Kurt nodded.

"I kind of hate you right now, too."

A moment of silence passed.

"Do you?" Kurt asked, timidly.

"No," Blaine shook his head. "I couldn't ever hate you. I don't even know why I said that. I'm just—I'm mad, Kurt. I'm mad that you think this is going to be easy for me, for either of us, because even though I know the whole love thing is sort of one-sided, I do know that you still care about me. Sometimes I wake up next to you and I catch you just staring at me and even though you don't ever say you love me back, I figure that it's enough, that having you look at me like that means more than three measly little words that get thrown around like they mean nothing every day all over this stupid world."

"You're not really making this any easier," Kurt chuckled, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Good," Blaine pouted. He knew it was ridiculous and immature, but he just could not bring himself to care.

"I told you before that no matter the circumstances between me and you, that I would still be there for you, as a—a friend, someone you can come to whenever you need to. I meant that."

"Yeah, well, you can keep your friendship."

Kurt was frowning at him, he could feel it.

"Sorry," Blaine uttered. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes," Kurt said. "You did mean that and I guess I can't blame you."

"Whatever," Blaine said, quietly.

A long time passed without either of them speaking. Blaine had a headache. He wished he could just sleep and then maybe when he woke up, it would all have been a dream.

"So, I, uh, heard you've got a big game this weekend," Kurt said.

Blaine only nodded.

"I also heard you have an important practice at the same time we have practice for regionals."

Blaine nodded again.

"Do you know what you're going to do?"

Blaine raised his eyes to Kurt's then and he fell apart when he looked into those cyan seas. "Actually, I had no idea up to an hour, or so ago," Blaine told him, jaw clenched. "But you've made my choice a lot easier. Football, here I come."

"You're choosing football because I had to put an end to our relationship?"

"I only ever joined glee for you," Blaine admitted. "I wanted to be close to you. I don't get to be close to you any more, so screw glee club. I'm done."

"You joined glee club because of me?"

"Don't act like you didn't already know that, Kurt," Blaine said and he was too tired to keep up his angered glare. He was just so tired.

"Maybe it started out like that," Kurt said. "But I know how much you like being in glee. You smile in glee, Blaine."

"I smile when I'm with you, too," Blaine shot back. "But we don't always get to be everywhere we want, do we?"

Blaine stood up then and brushed his thighs down. He began walking away, Kurt watching him.

"Blaine."

He turned back to look as Kurt climbed to his feet. He held out a hand and Blaine looked down to see the bracelet he had given Kurt on his birthday in a pool of silver in the centre of his palm.

"I can't keep it," Kurt choked out. "I wouldn't be able to—Well. I just wouldn't be able."

Blaine took it from him, then looked up to meet his shining blue eyes. Blaine held up his wrist, his own bracelet hanging there. "Do you want this back?"

"No," Kurt said. "No, never."

Blaine looked at him and he could see this was hurting him as much as it hurt Blaine, himself. He thought about putting his arms around him, kissing him once more, telling him it would be okay, but he didn't, because having Kurt in his arms and against his lips would only make letting go harder.

And as for saying it would be okay, he couldn't, because he honestly couldn't predict a time when it would be.

* * *

><p>"Quinn Fabray is pregnant."<p>

Kurt looked up quickly at Mercedes. "Um, what?"

"Quinn," Mercedes repeated. "She's pregnant."

"How do you know?" Kurt asked, carefully, closing his locker door.

"She was sick in history this morning and she kept refusing to go see the nurse, until Mrs Brown insisted on escorting her and someone was in the waiting room while Quinn got checked over and heard the whole thing and now everyone knows," Mercedes told him. "I—I'm really sorry, Kurt. I know you and Blaine were sort of..."

"You're just assuming it's Blaine's?" Kurt asked, before he could stop the words from spilling out of his mouth. "I mean, it could be anyone's, right? I mean, you know Quinn."

"Kurt," Mercedes said, pity in her eyes. "I know you want it to be someone else's, but you've got to face facts. Blaine Anderson is the father of that baby, whether you like it or not."

Kurt almost told her. he opened his mouth, then closed it again. This was not his secret to reveal.

"Yeah," he said, finally. "Yeah, you're right."

* * *

><p>"Have you seen your girlfriend?"<p>

Blaine looked up and saw Puck standing there, eye still black from the pinch he had given him. "Um, no."

"Did you know?"

"Did I know what?" Blaine asked, slowly. "You and I are no longer friends, why are you talking to me?"

Puck sat down on the bench in the boy's changing rooms. "Quinn's pregnant."

Blaine stopped still. If Quinn's secret was out, that meant Blaine's secret wouldn't be kept a secret for much longer. "Oh."

"Oh?" Puck said, quickly. "_Oh? _Dude, she's pregnant!"

"I heard you the first time."

"So, what are you going to do about it?" Puck asked, eyes wide.

"Um, nothing."

"Why don't you cut the crap, Anderson?" Puck snapped. "Why don't you drop the _gay_ club and the _gay_ English partner and the _gay_ way you've been lately and go take care of your girlfriend?"

Blaine wanted to hit him again, because he was behaving like this, when Blaine knew about him and Quinn. "Puckerman, stay out of my life," Blaine said, mentally counting to ten to calm himself down.

"You're such an asshole, Blaine!" Puck groaned. "You've got the hottest girl in school and you're ruining your rep. by hanging out with glee club losers! Your new friends are geeks, Anderson! Can't you see that? Or are you just turning into one of them and you can't tell the difference any more?"

Blaine had had enough.

"Actually, Puck, they're better friends to me than you, or any of the guys have ever been," Blaine informed him. "For one, none of them have been sleeping with my girlfriend."

Puck stopped still and simply stared at Blaine.

"Yeah, I know," Blaine nodded. "I'm not stupid, Puck. You think I don't know why you joined glee? You think I don't know that you were keeping an eye on her? I do know, Puck. So maybe instead of meeting Sandy Ryerson under the bleachers for drugs and pumping yourself with alcohol every single night, you should go talk to Quinn about her being pregnant, because it has _nothing to do with me_." Blaine took a deep breath, then exhaled for a long time. "You know what else? Screw this championship game. Since you think I'm turning into too much of a 'geek', there's no way I could lead the team to a victory. So good luck without me."

* * *

><p>Blaine wouldn't even look in his direction. Kurt had been surprised when he had come to the regionals rehearsal and seen Blaine there, practicing dance moves with Mike Chang. Blaine had glanced up at him when he had first entered the room, but had looked quickly away. He hadn't looked at him since.<p>

Everyone was there, except for Puck and Quinn, for obvious reasons. Half way through rehearsal, Mr Schuester went to the library to look for a song book. He told the kids to take a five minute break and that he would be right back.

"I just can't get that stupid move," Mercedes said, sitting down between Kurt and Rachel.

"It's actually very easy, Mercedes," Rachel said. "If you use your left foot to push you upwards, it makes things a whole lot easier. I'll show you once Mr Schuester gets back."

Kurt drifted off into his own thoughts as Rachel and Mercedes discussed the dance moves. He had them down already, he didn't need to listen, anyway. Blaine was still trying to pick up a move from Mike, but kept on leaving a step out. Everyone else was chatting quietly and laughing and drinking water.

Kurt looked up then when he heard a loud voice over by the door.

"Hey, Anderson!"

Blaine turned around to look at Puck, as he walked through the door, followed by what appeared to be the rest of the football team. Everyone was looking at them now.

"Excuse me, Noah," Rachel said, standing up and placing her hands on her narrow plaid-covered hips. "You chose to go to your silly practice, so please leave."

Puckerman ignored her and a couple of the other players laughed from where they stood by the door. Puck walked closer to Blaine.

"You seriously came to gay club? Again?"

"Did I not make it clear that I wasn't going to football?" Blaine snapped back.

"Is this over Quinn?" Puck asked. "Is that what this is about?"

A few people exchanged confused looks, but Kurt just watched.

"Hardly," Blaine rolled his hazel eyes. "This is about me being tired of your crap."

Puck shoved Blaine forward and then Blaine was shoving him back and Kurt almost stood up, but Finn had moved forward and pulled Blaine back.

"He's not worth it, dude," Finn told Blaine.

"You're right," Blaine spat out. "He's not."

"I'm worth more than you, Anderson."

Blaine looked back at him, eyes narrowed. "I doubt that."

"Well," Puck said, with a sneer. "You couldn't even keep your girlfriend satisfied, so I had to do it for you. Yeah, that's right, everyone. Baby Puckerman, not Anderson."

An echo of gasps and low whispers filled the room. Some of the footballers' jaws had dropped and they were looking at each other in surprise.

"It disturbs me that you think the fact that I am not going to be a teenage father would disappoint me," Blaine told him.

"You'd bail on her even if it was your kid, Anderson," Puck said, angrily. "Don't lie. You've been bailing on all of us since the start of the year. You turned into this—this fucking _fag_ that sings and dances with another group of fags and you expect a girl like Quinn Fabray to stay with you?"

"You're not grasping the concept here, Puck," Blaine said. "I don't _care_ about Quinn, I never have. We _despise _one another, _we always have_."

Puck was staring at him, confusedly. "You were the best friend I had, Anderson. We were always alike, I thought you were cool, you know? But actually you're not. You're an asshole and I don't get how you managed to stay on top. I don't know how you're on top, now—Oh, of course, unless you're _on top _in another way, which maybe I could believe. You're acting weird enough, how should I know what you're doing—or who you're doing—in your spare time?"

Kurt could see it in Puck's eyes, in his body language that he didn't actually believe Blaine was gay, he was just saying these things to get to him, to show him up in front of everyone else. Kurt turned his gaze to Blaine, who just looked as if he might blow his top. He was clenching his fists and they had turned white and he was grinding down on his teeth and his dark brows were knit tightly in the centre of his head.

And that was when Kurt knew, he knew what was coming next and he couldn't even stand up to stop him, because Blaine had reached that point they had talked about. He had reached the edge and instead of allowing himself to tip over, he had to pull himself up and come clean.

"Actually," Blaine said, looking around the room, briefly, then resting his eyes back on Puck. "We were never alike, Puck. We have nothing in common. In face," Blaine said, looking across at the other footballers. "I have nothing in common with any of you—Well." Kurt saw Blaine's eyes lingering on Karofsky for a split second. "Maybe one of you, but that's where the similarities stop. The thing is, Puck, you think you're always right and most of the time, you're not. This time on the other hand, you're half right, so congratulations for that."

The whole class was silent now, as Blaine walked down the front of the room where everyone could see him. He raised his head and looked around, then opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm tired of pretending to be someone I'm not," Blaine said, firmly. "So, I have a confession to make."

* * *

><p><strong>So, let me know what you thought. I'm actually sad that this fic is almost over, I'm estimating about 5 chapters, could be more, could be less, we'll see. I'll try update tomorrow, but no promises, I'm sorry to leave you on a bit of a cliffhanger :)<strong>


	27. Chapter 27

**I nearly died because ff wasn't letting me upload at first and I stayed up 'til 4am writing this and I have to be up early and I was about to snap lol, but it's up! I own nothing! I've never apologised more than I did after that last chapter. Firstly, this song www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=aAlutTOh6yg just needs to be listened to, because I found it today and it fits so perfectly that I cried in tinychat with Rebecca and then listened to it on repeat as I wrote this. Or the lyrics are here www(.)songmeanings(.)net/songs/view/3530822107858784753/ if you want to just read them instead. Also, I continue to have art made for this and I flail every time (www(.)likechildreninafairytale(.)tumblr(.)com/tagged/sideways)**

**I will now shut up :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 27:<strong>

Blaine was ignoring Kurt, who was shooting him looks from his seat, looks which seemed to question Blaine's sanity. Blaine's heart was hammering in his chest and his throat was dry, but he was done. He was so fed up with the pretences and with being afraid and with _everything. _Nothing mattered any more, he may as well just let it all out.

Blaine met Kurt's eyes briefly. Kurt gave him a small nod, which Blaine translated as _are you sure?_ Blaine blinked once. _Yes. _He tore his eyes from Kurt's blue orbs and looked around the room, looking at everyone rather than anyone in particular.

"There have been a lot of rumours going around about me lately," Blaine spoke up. He could hardly hear himself over the fast paced beat of his heart. "And actually, most of them are true."

He saw everyone exchanging glances with one another, everyone but Kurt and Mercedes, who simply stared straight ahead.

"If you're wondering which ones," Blaine went on. "The one about Quinn not having my baby is true, as we just learned." Blaine glanced over at Puck, who was just watching him, eyes wide. "Also, yeah. I kind of love glee club. Playing football bores me to death. Let's see, what else?" Blaine paused. "Oh, right. The big one. The one that my good friend David Karofsky spread around."

Blaine saw Kurt's eyes flash. He knew he was thinking Blaine was about to out Karofsky as well as himself, but Blaine wasn't going to do that, he simply wanted to alarm Dave.

"If you don't know what I mean by 'the big one', I'll break that down for you," Blaine said. He wasn't sure where he was getting his courage from. Maybe he was just too tired of being a coward, of hiding in the shadows. It was time to come out. Literally. "David has been saying that I'm gay, right Dave?" Karofsky looked away quickly. "So, yeah. I am. I'm gay," Blaine emitted. "_I'm gay._"

Eyes widened and jaws dropped all over the room. Blaine saw Kurt exhaling, shoulders slumping a little.

"The other half of Dave's rumour," Blaine said, carefully. "Was that I was sleeping with Kurt, there."

All eyes went to Kurt and Kurt simply blinked, his blue gaze locked on Blaine.

"Partially true," Blaine confirmed. "I say 'partially', because I wasn't just sleeping with Kurt. I'm through lying, so I may as well just go ahead and tell you everything. Kurt made me do something I didn't ever think I would do. He made me love him. He made me love him and he made me realise I hated myself, because I did. I hate who I was before I met Kurt. I hate that I made all your lives a misery." He looked towards the glee club. "I hate that I went along with all of you and your stupidity." He looked across at the football team. "I hate that I was living a lie, that I was pretending I was someone else, just to conform to what you all thought I was supposed to be."

Nobody said a word, just watched him with stunned expressions.

"So, Kurt made me realise who I really am and I fell in love with him in the process," Blaine continued. "He's the only one who has been here for me no matter what, even though you guys were supposed to be my friends. I don't really have Kurt any more. I don't have friends. I've literally got nothing right now. So, whatever. Now you know."

Blaine took a long inhale, then exhaled slowly. "To re-cap: I'm gay, gayer than Christmas. I'm gay and I'm through with all of you." His copper eyes fell on Kurt, then. "Except you. I'll never be through with you."

Kurt opened his mouth, the beginning of Blaine's name on his lips, but he stopped then and simply shook his head.

"I love you," Blaine told him and his voice broke. "You got me here, Kurt. You helped me come clean, you're the reason I could do this today. And I thought that at the end of all this, I would at least still have you, which I guess I was wrong about, what with how everything has played out. But still, I owe you for everything. Thank you for what you've done for me. And I love you, I really, really do." Blaine swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. It didn't go away. "So, that's it really. I've said everything I needed to. I know there's still months to go, but I kind of hope I never see any of you ever again once we graduate." His eyes lingered on Kurt. He probably wasn't going to see Kurt after graduation, he didn't have a choice regarding that. "Well, most of you anyway."

Blaine addressed the glee club, then. "Thank you for accepting me, even though I treated every single one of you like crap for years," he said. "I'm not going to bail on you for regionals, because you don't deserve that, so don't worry."

Rachel gave him a sympathetic nod. He looked over at the footballers, who still looked stunned. "Thanks for helping me become something I hated. I'm not going to be at the game on Saturday. For one, I hate playing football. Sure, I'm better than all of you, which wouldn't be hard, but I'm still not going to go, because you don't deserve it. The majority of you are homophobic, which is pretty funny when I look at some of you." Blaine shot Karofsky a brief glance. "If you expect me, as a gay guy, to help you, as homophobes, win a game, you're nuts. And even without that, you're all assholes and I'm not going to waste my time being around you any more."

Blaine took a deep inhale of breath, then looked at Kurt again. "Thank you for helping me find my heart, for putting it back together and for breaking it again. It's stupid, because I want to hate you, but I can't. I love you more than I ever have. I doubt I'll ever stop."

Blaine cleared his throat, glanced around the room once more, then turned away and walked towards the door, just as Mr Schuester walked inside. He stopped still, face contorting with confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking around the room. "Why is the football team here? Blaine? Are you okay?"

Blaine shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mr Schuester," he uttered, then continued on out the door and down the halls and then out into the parking lot. He got in his car, heart aching painfully in his chest, a bitter sweet taste left on his tongue.

He let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding and started the car. He drove out of the school grounds and out on to the road and didn't stop until the first warm, salty tear trickled from his eye, followed by a torrent of more.

Blaine cried until he had no more tears left in him, his entire body convulsing with dry, tearless sobs. His head was throbbing and his heart was racing and he closed his eyes because there was nothing left to do.

* * *

><p><strong>To: Blaine at 5.01 P.M.<br>**_Where are you? _

**To: Blaine at 5.05 P.M.  
><strong>_Blaine, where are you?_

**To: Blaine at 5.08 P.M.  
><strong>_You need someone right now. Tell me where you are._

**To: Blaine at 5.11 P.M.  
><strong>_Yeah, okay, Blaine, the silent treatment, that's real mature._

**To: Blaine at 5.14 P.M.  
><strong>_Fine, I'll be at your house in ten minutes. Bye._

**To: Kurt at 5.15 P.M.  
><strong>_I'm not at my house, I'm at the field._

* * *

><p>"Hi."<p>

Blaine didn't say a word, only blinked once up at the sky. Kurt nodded slowly, then went and sat down gingerly in the grass near him.

"Are you okay?"

Blaine raised an eyebrow, as if to say _what do you think?_ Which, Kurt guessed, he had a point.

"Do you think you were ready?" Kurt asked. "I know you weren't planning it, but was it the wrong time? Are you sorry you did it?"

"No," Blaine said, breaking his silence. "No, it was time. It felt right."

"Good," Kurt said, relieved. "I was worried."

"Were you," Blaine said and he didn't make it a question.

Kurt sighed, silently. "Breaking up with you didn't mean I was going to stop caring, Blaine."

Blaine snorted.

"Oh, shut up, Blaine, _you know_ I care," Kurt rolled his eyes. He eyed Blaine for a little while, then lay back next to him. Blaine leaned up a bit and looked down at him, brows furrowed.

"You're lying in the grass," Blaine said, stating the obvious. "Aren't you scared you'll get your clothes dirty?"

"I'm making an exception."

"An exception?" Blaine asked. "What for?"

"For you, Blaine," Kurt said, cringing at the fact that there was probably bugs beneath him. "You just—you just did what you did and you need someone, so I'm going to lay here with you."

Blaine lay back and sighed. "Why are you making this harder?" he asked, quietly. Kurt didn't say anything. He didn't want to make it harder. "By being here with me, you're making it harder."

"Do you want me to leave?" Kurt asked, sitting up a bit.

"No," Blaine said, tugging him back down. "No, don't leave me."

Kurt sat back and couldn't shake the feeling that Blaine wasn't just asking him not to leave the field. He didn't say anything about it, just sighed and watched the grey clouds drifting across the sombre sky.

"You can talk to me," Kurt said, after a while.

Blaine was silent and Kurt didn't think he was going to say anything else, but he did.

"I don't know what's going to happen now," Blaine uttered. "I don't know what I'm going to do, or say. I don't know if I'm happy, or sad. I don't know anything."

"Do you think he knows already?"

"It's been over an hour," Blaine pointed out. "He knows. I switched off my phone after I texted you back. I don't want to talk to him yet."

Kurt nodded. He couldn't get rid of the feeling of dread swimming around in the pit of his stomach. After Blaine had walked out of the choir room, all Kurt could think about was Blaine's dad and what he might do to him once he found out what had happened.

Kurt heard Blaine sniffling a little bit. He sat up and looked down at him, studying him properly for the first time since he had arrived at their field. His eyes looked puffy and dilated. His lips were redder than they should have been and he looked tired.

"Have you been crying?" Kurt asked, softly.

"No."

"I thought you were done with lies," Kurt pointed out.

"I am," Blaine sighed. "Okay, fine. I cried. Are you happy?"

"You think I should be happy that you cried?"

Blaine only shrugged.

"Blaine," Kurt said, simply.

"What?" Blaine asked. "What do you want me to do? Should I pretend it's fine that you're cutting me into pieces every time I look at you? Should I just smile and act like I'm okay with you dumping me after you said you wouldn't? I thought I would have you when I did this, when I finally got up the courage to tell them who I am, but I don't. I mean, you're here, but you're not _here,_ Kurt. You're standing in front of me, but you're not really here, where I need you to be. It's not the same."

Kurt opened his mouth to speak, but Blaine went on.

"Don't you get that I love you? That I just want to be with you? That I have nothing else in the fucking world to hold on to?" A small sob escaped Blaine's throat as he sat up to face Kurt. Kurt saw a single tears falling from his eye. "I have nothing left. I have no future, no real family that gives a damn and I don't have you," Blaine informed him. "I have to go home and face a raving lunatic and tell him that the things he's heard about me are true and maybe I wouldn't care as much if I still had someone that made me feel like i was worth anything. I don't know what's going to happen, Kurt. I'm going to have to just take whatever he gives me, because I can't fight back and I can't just walk out of there. For one, I have nowhere to go and secondly, I can't leave my mom. _I have nothing, Kurt. _I have nothing and my heart's in pieces and I'm just _giving up_. I don't have any other choice. It's over."

Kurt watched as Blaine buried his face in his hands and cried, his body convulsing with uncontrollable sobs. Kurt moved forward and did the only thing he could think to do: He tried to encircle him with his arms, but Blaine pulled back.

"No," he choked out. "No, you don't get to touch me and then let me go and walk away like I mean nothing to you. Don't. Don't touch me."

Kurt sighed and went closer anyway. Blaine's eyes seemed to question him.

"Shut up and let me hold you, Blaine," Kurt whispered, taking Blaine in his arms. Blaine's face twisted and more tears came and his body began to rock in Kurt's embrace. "You could never mean nothing to me," Kurt said into his hair. "Not ever."

Blaine gave in, his cries getting louder, his entire body shaking violently. Kurt tried to keep him steady, to hold him together, but all he wanted to do was cry with him, cry because he was cared of what this would mean for Blaine, cry because he wanted more than anything to keep him safe, cry because he loved the boy in his arms more than anything else in the world and he couldn't tell him, couldn't have him, couldn't take him by the hand and pull him out of this field and take him to a whole other world where nothing could touch them.

Kurt didn't cry, because he wanted to be strong for him, but he felt his heart contract, because he wasn't ready to let him go. He never would be.

* * *

><p>"Come stay at my house tonight," Kurt said, stroking Blaine's knuckles with his thumb.<p>

"I—I can't."

"Yes, you can," Kurt told him. "You're not ready to face him, so you don't have to. That doesn't make you a coward, Blaine, that just makes you human."

Blaine shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I know I don't have to face him if I'm not ready. I just can't be with you if—if.."

"Oh," Kurt said, quietly. "I know we're not—not how we used to be, but I don't want you to go out and get yourself into trouble. I want to know you're safe."

"_Why?_" Blaine asked, looking as if he didn't understand.

"Why?" Kurt repeated. "That's a ridiculous question, Blaine."

"I don't think it is," Blaine murmured, stubbornly.

"What would you do if the roles were reversed?" Kurt asked. "Would you go home and leave me out here, when it's clearly going to rain?" Kurt gestured up at the harrowing sky, threatening to cry a torrent of cold, angry tears.

"No," Blaine said, quietly. "But I also wouldn't have broken up with you. I would have tried to keep what we had, because, Kurt, when something's important to you, you try to hold on to it, no matter what it takes. Clearly, I'm not important enough to you."

"You can't see where I'm coming from at all?" Kurt asked. "Blaine, you _are _important to me. You mean the world to me, I just can't spend every day until I leave with you, because I don't know how I'll say goodbye once the time comes. Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's cowardly, but it's the only thing I can think to do right now."

"I do see your side of it, you know," Blaine told him. "I just don't know how you think doing it this way makes it any easier that you're going to disappear out of my life at the end of it all. Whether we're together, or not, this isn't making anything easier, Kurt. I'm hurting. I'm breaking now, Kurt. I'll be breaking later. I'll be breaking for the rest of my life. I don't care when it happens, I'm still going to be broken, so why shouldn't I get to love you for as long as you're here?"

Kurt frowned, because Blaine had a point. He just wasn't sure. He didn't know how he would handle it. He needed time.

"I'm not sure, Blaine, at least not yet."

Blaine sighed, then nodded. "Okay," he said, tiredly. "Fine."

"So, will you please come home with me?" Kurt pleaded. "Please?"

Blaine looked sceptical for a couple of heart beats, then he nodded. "Okay," he said. "Okay, if it'll make you happy."

"I don't know about happy," Kurt told him. "But at least I'll know you're safe."

* * *

><p>"I thought you two broke up," Burt told Kurt, once Blaine had gone down to his room and switched on the TV. Kurt had left him there to go get drinks and food.<p>

"We did," Kurt nodded. "But he kind of, um, came out in front of the entire glee club and football team and he can't go home. He had nowhere to go and I just thought—I just don't want him to be out on the streets all night, dad."

Burt nodded, understanding. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let him stay."

"Thanks, dad."

"D'you think he'll be okay?" Burt enquired.

"Probably not for a while," Kurt said, truthfully. "But at least he'll be safe tonight, right?"

Burt only nodded.

* * *

><p>"I hate this movie," Blaine groaned, covering his head with a pillow.<p>

Kurt smiled a bit. "Why did you pick it, then?" he asked.

"Because I feel like hating things today."

Kurt frowned and sat back with a sigh.

"I didn't mean you," Blaine's muffled voice said from behind the pillow. His fingers crept across and entwined themselves in Kurt's. "I could never hate you."

* * *

><p>"Is every—oh. He's asleep," Burt said, lowering his voice.<p>

Kurt sat up a bit and paused the TV. "Yeah, he's been out for a while."

Burt nodded. "I'm going to bed, Kurt," he said, with a yawn. "Will you.. You'll.."

"I get it, dad," Kurt told Burt. "Nothing's going to happen."

"Okay," Burt said. "Good night, Kurt." He looked down at Blaine, then, face softening. "'Night, Blaine."

Blaine didn't stir.

* * *

><p>His mouth tasted as if he had eaten stake bread. He sat up, groggily and looked around the room, remembering where he was.<p>

"Hey," Kurt said, beside him.

Blaine turned and looked at him, then settled back against the headboard. He reached across to the can of coke on the bedside table and took a swig. It burned his throat and he coughed a bit, then sat back again, his head throbbing, like something was pressing down on top of his skull.

"We should go get drunk," he told Kurt.

"No," Kurt said. "We shouldn't. You can't drown out every sorrow with alcohol, Blaine."

"I can try."

"Blaine," Kurt said, in a warning tone.

"Fine," Blaine sighed. "Break my heart _and _ruin my fun."

Blaine wished he could retract that comment the second it left his lips, but he was too tired to explain himself, so he just sat there, scowling.

"I never wanted to break your heart, Blaine."

"Yeah, it seems like it," Blaine said, not without sarcasm.

He didn't want to hurt Kurt, but he was still mad about everything. His life had turned upside down in the space of a few days. He didn't know what to do any more.

"Look at me and tell me you believe this isn't hard for me, too."

Blaine turned his head and looked up into Kurt's sad, blue eyes, at his down turned mouth, at his drawn, pale face, and sighed. "Okay," he said. "I know you're hurting, too, I get it. I just don't see why it has to be like this."

"I told you."

"Yeah, I know," Blaine nodded. "I still don't get it. Your logic sucks, Kurt."

"What do you want from me, Blaine?"

"I want you to give us a chance," Blaine apprised him. "I want you to be as brave as I know you are and give us a chance at making something out of this, because I don't know if you heard me the first thousand and one times, but I actually love you, Kurt. I love you and I can't just let you slip away without a fight, even if you can."

"You think this is easy for me, Blaine?" Kurt asked. "You think that seeing you broken doesn't break me, too? Do you think I like the idea of spending the rest of forever without you?"

"You're willing to spend the rest of forever never knowing what could have been," Blaine pointed out.

He saw Kurt's shoulders drop and he sat back, looking drained. Blaine wanted to go to him, hold him, kiss him, tell him he loved him, do whatever the hell it would take to get him back.

"You're miserable without me," Blaine stated. "I'm miserable without you. What's the logical thing to do here, Kurt?"

Kurt was silent for a little while, then said, "I know." Blaine watched him, intently. "I know, you're right, but I'm—I'm afraid, Blaine."

"So take a chance on me," Blaine sat up and took Kurt's hands in his own. "Take a chance, Kurt. If it doesn't work out, okay, at least we'll have tried. At least we'll know."

Kurt tilted his head sideways and exhaled. "I want to, it's just.."

Blaine nodded, understanding. "I know," he said, softly. "Sometimes taking a risk feels good, Kurt. I was terrified about coming out, but in the end, it was the right thing to do."

"I know," Kurt smiled a bit. "I was so proud of you for what you did today. I mean, i know you were hurting and I was hurting, too, but God, that was so amazing, everything you said, you—you're so strong, Blaine."

"Hmm," Blaine laughed, half-heartedly. "I wish."

"You are," Kurt urged. "You're stronger than you know."

"You're strong, too, Kurt," Blaine pointed out. "If we're both strong in this, then we'll make it. We can do it. At least give us a chance. If you walk away now, we'll never know what might have happened. We'll never know. We'll never have another day just doing nothing out in the field. We'll never sit in the corner of the library making fun of the librarian's shoes. We'll never have another one of those kisses that make me feel like I can't breathe, like I'm on this rollercoaster that might just kill me, but I can't get off, because I'm addicted, because I can't get enough, because I would die rather than never do it again. We'll never have any of that and I can't bear that, Kurt. I can't bear the idea of never having another day just _being_ with you."

Kurt breathed out, shakily, as Blaine moved closer.

"Take me back," he whispered. "Take my hand, take my heart, take everything. Take me back, Kurt. Take me back and just let's see what happens. Take a chance on me. Take me back."

Kurt's eyes were gleaming now. He was taking long, drawn-out breaths and then exhaling in stutters.

"Please, Kurt," Blaine said, in a hushed tone. "Give me a chance. Take all of me, because regardless of what you decide, I'm yours. I'm always yours."

"I—Blaine," Kurt uttered, as Blaine's lips came down over his own.

Blaine placed a chaste kiss to his lips and Kurt seemed to melt into him.

"Please," Blaine whispered, surprised at the yearning in his own voice. "Please tell me, Kurt. I need to know."

"Yes," Kurt said, almost instantly "Yes, okay, yes. Let's try, let's just—yeah. I can't be without you."

"Really?" Blaine asked, breath hitching in is chest.

"Really," Kurt nodded, smiling. "Time to be brave, right?"

"Yes," Blaine chuckled and pressed another kiss to Kurt's mouth. "Yeah, time to be brave. I love you."

"I know," Kurt told him. "I love you, too."

Blaine froze, his heart stilling in his chest. "Do you?"

"Of course, I do," Kurt told him. "I've loved you far longer than you've loved me."

"You scared the crap out of me," Blaine smiled, dropping himself down over Kurt's body. "You never said it back and you scared the crap out me, made me think you didn't love me."

"I was scared of giving you all of me," Kurt told him. "But since we're being brave.."

"Say it again."

"I love you," Kurt smiled.

Blaine lowered his mouth to Kurt's pale neck. "Again."

"I love you."

Blaine dipped his mouth down to meet the pulse in Kurt's neck and he sucked the skin into his mouth. "And again."

"I love you," Kurt repeated and he reached down and pulled Blaine back up and caught his mouth with his. "I love you, Blaine."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sorry I didn't get to reply to reviews the past couple of days, but I definitely will! I'll try update tomorrow :) Let me know! :D x<strong>


	28. Chapter 28

**I own nothing! This is a bit late, I had a TMI fandom crisis. First off, I said I would mention that fangirlingisveryhard (tumblr) has been translating this into Italian and posting it here: efpfanfic(.)net/viewuser(.)php?uid=171801 so thank you! Also, thank you for the reviews, still, I can't believe how many there are now. I changed what was going to happen in this chapter because I had a lot of people crying after I broke them up, so I didn't want to like, cut anyone up too badly so soon :P Okay, I'm done :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28:<strong>

Blaine blinked himself awake, the light bright and a little too much for his eyes to take. He allowed his eyes to get used to the intense glow, before taking in his surroundings, the frightening reality of everything that had happened the previous day hitting him hard.

Blaine swallowed hard and turned his head to the side to look at Kurt, whose lips were parted, his eyes closed, soft snoring sounds drifting from his mouth. Blaine found himself smiling. It had been the first time they had slept together without actually _sleeping together._ Their clothes were still intact and it felt good, just to be there with Kurt, just to have him back in his arms.

Blaine leaned across and flung his arms around Kurt, pulling him close and Kurt sprang upwards.

"What the—Oh," Kurt stopped, eyebrows dropping. "Sorry, I forgot you were there—No. I didn't forget you were there, you just sort of—surprised me."

"Sorry," Blaine told him and tugged gently on his arm, urging him to lay back down. "I just remembered that you love me and I couldn't help myself."

Kurt dropped back down to lay on his side, propping himself up on one elbow. He smiled at Blaine and Blaine's heart stilled, then sped up.

"I'm so in love with you," Blaine told Kurt, without thinking.

"'Makes two of us," Kurt said, smile growing.

"You're so in love with you, too?" Blaine teased.

"Is this your way of making me say it?" Kurt asked, one eyebrow lifting.

Blaine didn't say anything, just watched him with amused eyes.

"Fine," Kurt smirked. "I'm sort of so in love with you, too. Like, so in love with you that I can't even get my head around it."

Blaine smiled, crookedly. "You're sure you're not just trying to get into my pants?"

"You're nervous about going to school," Kurt said. "I know because you turned that into sex."

"Maybe," Blaine admitted, falling back into the pillows with a sigh. Blaine shut his eyes, his head spinning. He wished he didn't have to do this.

Blaine felt Kurt shifting next to him, then opened his eyes and found him hovering above him, smiling. "I'll be there, you know," Kurt told him. "I'll be there with you and you'll get through it, I promise. You'll see."

"Thank you," Blaine uttered, reaching up to pull Kurt down, so that their bodies were flush against each other. "There's still my dad, though."

"I'll come with you," Kurt told him, entwining his arms around Blaine's neck. "If you want me there, I'll come with you."

Blaine sighed and curled his arms around Kurt's slender waist. "No," he said. "No, bad idea. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful. It means a lot to me that you would be willing to do that, but.." Blaine trailed off and shook his head. "You don't know what he's like, what he's capable of. I don't even know what he's capable of. I need to do this by myself."

"Okay," Kurt frowned, slightly. "God, you had better be okay."

Blaine didn't assure him that he would be. He simply exhaled, then pulled Kurt's mouth down to meet his own, because sometimes, Kurt made him forget and all he wanted to do was forget.

* * *

><p>Blank stares, low whispers, judgmental eyes, unenviable silence, familiar white noise filling his mind, his ears, his head. He felt sick, sick for Blaine, for himself, for every other human being who had ever had to endure this and would have to endure it in the future. The world seemed to tilt in slow motion as they walked the halls in silence, side by side. Kurt's legs felt heavy, as if he couldn't move any faster, as if he was walking in a humid climate, the hot air pulling him back, holding him down until he couldn't escape its clutches.<p>

He glanced sideways at Blaine, who looked back at him. Kurt couldn't read his expression, it was far too difficult, the world a blur, yet so easy to see at the same time. Kurt could see the cluster of red letterman jackets standing by the lockers as they advanced down the halls. He heard Blaine take a deep breath, then exhale slowly and then Kurt almost stopped still.

Blaine's warm fingers found his own and curled themselves around them.

"What are you—Are you crazy?" Kurt asked, quietly. "Blaine, we're moving targets."

"Screw them," Blaine said. He nodded towards one of the football players kissing his girlfriend to their left. "If they can do it," he said, then nodded to the other side, at Rachel and Finn holding hands, "And they can do it," Blaine went on. "I don't see why we can't do it, too."

"You know exactly why," Kurt muttered, but made no move to unlatch his fingers from Blaine's.

"Pull away if you can't do it," Blaine said.

"No, you're right," Kurt said, tightening his grip. "We have as much of a right as the rest of them, right?"

"Totally," Blaine smiled, lifted his head and they strode by the footballers, smiling, leaving them to gape after them.

"Faggots!" someone called after them.

Kurt felt Blaine's arm curling around his waist as they reached the end of the hall.

"Do you have a death wish?" Kurt smiled, glancing at Blaine out of the corner of his eye.

"No, quite the opposite, actually," Blaine informed him. "This is my life and if I want to walk down the hallway holding my boyfriend's hand, I'm going to walk down the hallway holding my boyfriend's hand."

"You make a valid argument," Kurt grinned.

"Absolutely," Blaine told him, then smiled. "Besides, we are royalty, after all."

* * *

><p>"Blaine Anderson."<p>

Blaine turned to see Kenneth Puckerman coming towards him. Blaine rolled his hazel eyes and sighed. He guessed an encounter with Kenny was inevitable.

"I see you're not wearing the jacket any more," Kenny pointed out. Blaine nodded. He had taken it off after having arrived at the field and he had no intentions of putting it back on. He was done with the football team, done with all of them.

"Heard you made quite the confession yesterday," Kenny grinned, once he was within touching distance. "I was devastated when I heard I had missed it."

"Do you want me to repeat it all?" Blaine deadpanned.

"No, I got the gist of it, Anderson," Kenny shook his head. "I also heard about you and Hummel. Trouble in paradise?"

"No, we're perfectly fine, thank you," Blaine said. "I didn't know you were that invested in our relationship, but thanks for your concern."

Kenny chuckled a bit.

"How about you?" Blaine smirked. "How goes your blossoming love with David Karofsky?"

Kenny was frowning now, his eyes slitting a little. "It's just sex," he stated. "Which brings me to my proposal."

"You're proposing to Karofsky?" Blaine smiled. "How precious. I would go with a simple, white-gold band, nothing too flashy. He doesn't really seem like the type of guy who's into diamonds, does he?"

"Shut _up_, Anderson!" Kenny groaned. "Stop being such an asshole and hear me out."

Blaine rolled his eyes and slammed his locker door shut, then leaned against it, waiting for Kenny to go on.

"So, since things between me and Hummel didn't work out and since Karofsky fucking sucks," Kenny began. "You and I should totally fuck, or something."

Blaine choked and then burst into laughter. "Are you serious?" Blaine coughed. "Are you—Oh my God, you want to sleep with me? Really?"

"Take it or leave it, Anderson, I don't have all day."

"I'll leave it," Blaine said, quickly. "Not a chance, Kenny. Not in a million years."

Kenny gave him a half-shrug, then turned on his heel and walked away. Blaine smiled. At least he had gotten a laugh out of today.

* * *

><p>"Blaine, sit with us."<p>

Kurt looked up from his lunch and saw that Finn had spoken. He turned around, following Finn's gaze and found himself looking at Blaine, who was sitting a table over, by himself.

"Yeah, Blaine, what the hell?" Kurt said. "Get over here."

Blaine wore a stunned expression, his cheeks flushing slightly, now that the entire glee club were watching him, waiting for a response.

"I couldn't. I—"

"Blaine," Tina said. "You're part of this club. Come sit with us."

"Yeah, come on, Blaine," Brittany smiled. "I think I figured out how they get the 'm's on the M & Ms! Look, I'll explain it to you!"

Everyone went silent for a split second, then Santana shook her head. "Come on, elf, get over here. I want to ask you about your diet, because I think you need to drink more milk. Makes you taller."

Blaine smiled, crookedly, then looked across at Kurt, who smiled back. Blaine stood up and slid in next to Kurt and everyone went back to their own conversations.

"Blaine."

They looked up to see Rachel looking across at Blaine.

"Hey, Rachel," Blaine muttered.

"I want you to know we accept you for who you are and that you were really brave yesterday," she nodded. "I have two gay dads."

"Oh," Blaine said. "Oh, um, thanks. Cool."

Kurt rolled his eyes and took a sip of his water. "How's it going?" he asked.

"Uh, okay, I guess," Blaine told him. "Someone spray painted my locker."

Kurt looked up at him, questioningly. Blaine nodded. "Neon fucking orange," he shook his head.

"What does it say?" Mercedes asked on the other side of Kurt. "Or do I even need to ask?"

"I'll give you three guesses," Blaine smiled, slightly. Kurt nodded, knowingly. "In other news," Blaine went on. "Kenny Puckerman asked me to sleep with him."

Kurt choked on his water. Mercedes had to pat him on the back several times, until he caught his breath. Kurt cleared his throat. "Did—did he really?"

Blaine nodded. "Yes," he smiled. "Be jealous."

Kurt chuckled. "Oh, I am," he joked.

"I say you have a threesome," Santana grinned.

"I've lost my appetite," Kurt said, pushing his tray away from him.

Blaine was smiling next to him as he picked at his salad. "On the up side, I haven't heard from Quinn," Blaine said.

"Always a good thing," Kurt nodded.

Loud laughter erupted through the room then and everyone looked up and over at the door. Puck, Karofsky, Azimio and Kenny had entered the canteen and were heading for their usual table. Kurt felt Blaine go rigid next to him.

"It's okay," Kurt whispered, reaching for Blaine's hand under the table. Blaine nodded and looked back down into his food.

Kurt looked up and saw that they had disappeared and were probably seated at their table now, but then he heard footsteps behind him. He twisted his neck around and saw Puckerman standing there, grinning.

"You giving him a handjob under there, Hummel?"

Kurt rolled his eyes and looked away, then he felt, heard and smelled the spray paint. He turned to see Puck holding out a small can, dripping with neon-orange paint. He was spraying it on Kurt's back. Kurt jumped up in protest. Puck was in hysterics laughing and Blaine stood up and looked at Kurt's back.

"It's fine," Kurt muttered, even though the paint was probably never going to come out.

Before Kurt could turn to look at Blaine, he was across the hall and pushing Puck hard down against someone's table, food trays falling and milk spilling in the process. The spray paint can hit the floor and Mercedes grabbed it and flung it in the bin.

"Dude," Kurt heard Puck saying.

"Blaine, leave it," Kurt said. He didn't want him getting in trouble over this. Kurt had had way worse things happen to him in the past.

"I'm tired of you," Blaine growled. "I'm sick and fucking tired of you acting like you're better than everyone. "What do you get out of doing this, _Noah_? Is your life so sad that you have to make yourself feel better by making others feel bad?"

"Anderson," Puck choked out as Blaine gripped his shirt hard. "_Blaine._ Dude, let me go."

"I think you owe _my boyfriend _an apology."

"Blaine, leave it, it's oka—"

"No, Kurt," Blaine shouted back. "No, it's not okay. It's not _okay _that they think they can get away with doing this. We're not going to sit back and accept abuse just because we like guys instead of girls. No, this stops now, Puckerman."

Blaine raised his arm and was about to punch Puck, but Kurt moved forward and grabbed his elbow. Blaine looked at him, quizzically.

"This won't solve anything," Kurt told Blaine. "It's never going to stop, Blaine and punching him isn't going to make a difference. Punching him isn't going to make him stop being homophobic."

Blaine's face fell and Kurt gave him a small nod.

"Come on, don't," Kurt said. "Homophobia is always going to be there, you just have to be the better person and try not to let it bother you."

Blaine's face contorted a little and he glanced down at Puck, then back up at Kurt.

"Yeah," Blaine said. "Well, I'm tired of being the better person."

Blaine looked back down at Puck, angrily. "Come near me, or Kurt, or any of the glee club again and you and I are both going to regret it, Puckerman."

Blaine let Puck go and Puck scrambled away, muttering something about him being crazy. Kurt sighed and pushed Blaine gently back into his seat. He sat next to him.

"You should have let me punch him," Blaine told Kurt.

"He's not worth it," Kurt said.

Blaine frowned. "How much was _this _worth?" He reached up and toyed with the collar of Kurt's shirt, the back of it covered in neon-orange spray paint.

"Way more than him," Kurt smiled, sadly.

"Hey, Blaine," Artie said on the other side of the table. "That was fierce, yo!"

Blaine gave him a smile and then looked back to Kurt. "Did you bring extra clothes?"

"Don't I always?" Kurt grinned.

"Let's go get you changed and I can get rid of my anger by kissing you until I can't feel my lips."

"You always say the most romantic things."

* * *

><p>"Blaine, the—ungh—Blaine," Kurt tried to tilt his head away so that Blaine's lips couldn't reach him, but Blaine was relentless, like a hyper puppy that wanted to play. His hands were taking every inch of Kurt's body, his breathing a little laboured. He followed Kurt's lips with his own and Kurt kept on finding himself giving it and just allowing Blaine a couple more minutes.<p>

Kurt sighed as Blaine kissed him frantically, like it was his final day and all he wanted to do was kiss him until his time was up. But Kurt didn't want to think about that. He reached up and made a grab for Blaine's hands, which seemed to be exploring various parts of Kurt's body over his clothes. Blaine crushed his body to Kurt's and Kurt tried to speak, but Blaine swallowed his words.

Kurt finally took control and turned Blaine around so that he was pressed to the wall instead. Blaine leaned up to catch Kurt's mouth with his own again and they kissed briefly and sloppily and then Kurt tore his mouth away and held Blaine down by the shoulders.

"We—we should st-stop," he stuttered, breathing heavily.

"No, we shouldn't," Blaine tried to move forward again, but Kurt leaned into him, keeping him down. "We should never stop," Blaine breathed.

"You're nuts," Kurt smiled a bit.

"What about my nuts?" Blaine raised one eyebrow, then reached down and traced the line of Kurt's semi-hard cock through his tight jeans. Kurt swallowed hard. "Let me do this," Blaine whispered, eyes darkening. "You can't go to class like this, people will stare and I don't like when people stare at you."

Kurt smiled crookedly at his boyfriend. "Cute," he said. "But we still can't. This is a public toilet, not to mention the fact that we're _at school._"

Blaine's hands found Kurt's hips and he rocked him forward so that their crotches were in line.

"Come on, pretty boy," Blaine said into Kurt's ear, his hand grazing the back of his thigh, just below the swell of his ass. "You know you want to."

Kurt opened his mouth to protest, but all that came was shaky breaths as Blaine's fingers slid up the line of his jeans that was covering the crack of his ass.

"Bl—_don't_," Kurt said in a strangled voice, Blaine's fingers sliding to the underside of his ass and then moving to rest between his thighs, far too close for comfort. "_Don't._"

"I'd stop if I knew you meant that," Blaine whispered, teeth brushing Kurt's neck, slowly. "Tell me you don't want to and I'll stop."

"I.." Kurt trailed off, voice breaking because Blaine's erection was against his thigh and Blaine was grinding himself into him. "I—yeah. D-Don't stop. But—mmh—but don't—not here. I only brought one change of p-pants."

Before Kurt had even finished that sentence, Blaine was pushing him inside a narrow cubicle and shutting them both inside.

"Blaine, this is—oh, God, what are you—_Blaine!_"

Kurt watched, his blue eyes wide, as Blaine threw his bag down, dropped to his knees, falling to kneel on the bag, and began to undo the button at the top of Kurt's jeans.

"Blai—" Kurt tried, once his jeans and underwear were around his ankles, but he didn't finish what he had wanted to say, because Blaine had shoved his fingers in his mouth. He began to pull back, but then Blaine was pushing his mouth down over Kurt's erection and his left hand was pressed to Kurt's ass. He slid one finger to flick over Kurt's opening and then Kurt knew where this was going, so he sucked Blaine's fingers into his mouth.

"You should see yourself right now," Blaine said, once he had removed his mouth, much to Kurt's dismay. "If I had a camera.."

"Blaine, shut up," Kurt said, spitting Blaine's fingers out. "Shut up and do what you do best."

Blaine grinned and did as Kurt obliged. Kurt's parted his feet and then Blaine's wet fingers were working to push inside him, his mouth finding his cock again.

"Wh-what if someone c-comes in?" Kurt exhaled.

"Then they'll have the pleasure of listening to you making those sounds," Blaine uttered, looking up at him.

"Sounds?" Kurt asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "What s-sound—_ahh!_"

Blaine's finger was all the way inside him, his body throbbing with both pain and pleasure.

"Those sounds," Blaine smiled, mischievously.

"Fuck you," Kurt managed to breathe out.

"Ooh, do you want to?" Blaine grinned, retracting his finger slowly, then pushing back in too quickly. Kurt's body spasmed.

"Bastard," Kurt mumbled. "Stop being so cocky."

"Kurt," Blaine smirked. "Kurt, say 'cocky' again."

Kurt rolled his eyes and his breath caught as Blaine's fingers worked themselves inside him. He reached down and placed a hand on the back of Blaine's head.

"Stop talking and put your mouth to better use."

"As you wish, my prince."

* * *

><p>"Promise me you'll contact me the second you can," Kurt said, unlatching his mouth from Blaine's. They were in Kurt's car, still in the school parking lot. Everyone else had gone home already.<p>

"Kurt," Blaine said, leaning back a bit and running his thumb across Kurt's wrist. "I swear to you that if I live through this, I will call you instantly."

"Don't say that," Kurt frowned down at him.

Blaine smiled and reached up to lay a hand on Kurt's cheek. "Will you stop worrying?" _I'll be fine_, he wanted to say, but he wasn't about to lie to Kurt. He had no idea if he would be fine, in fact, if he had to put money on it, he would predict that he would not be fine, at all, but he didn't want to worry Kurt any more than he already had. "Look, what's the worst that can happen?—Actually, forget I asked that.."

"Let me come with you," Kurt said. Blaine shook his head. "Blaine, come on, I can't go home knowing something might happen—"

"Kurt," Blaine said, firmly. "Kurt. Seriously. Don't do this. Don't make me feel guilty for making you worry."

"Oh, like I can just stop worrying in the blink of an eye?" Kurt said, voice raising. "Fucking hell, Blaine."

"I know," Blaine said, softly. "I know. I'm sorry. Hey, look at me." Blaine tilted Kurt's head so that their eyes met again. "I'm sorry. I just—I don't want you to worry about me. Be strong for both of us, okay?"

Kurt sighed and nodded. "You know I'm going to kill you if you let your anger get the better of you and force his hand, right?"

"Are you saying I have anger issues?" Blaine smirked.

"Are you saying you don't?" Kurt asked, smiling, but it didn't reach his beautiful eyes. "I'm serious, though, Blaine. And when I text you, you had better reply within two minutes, or I'm coming over."

"What would I do without you?" Blaine smiled, pulling Kurt's mouth down over his own again.

Kurt pulled back and frowned down at Blaine's crotch against Kurt's stomach. "You'd end up in hospital with a severe case of carpal tunnel, methinks," Kurt said, then smiled, "Seriously, when are you not horny?"

"Tell me you love me and I promise I'll go away," Blaine said, smiling, slightly. He had to go home and face it all some time.

"But I don't want you to go away," Kurt said, smile disappearing.

"Tell me you love me anyway?" Blaine asked, entwining their fingers around each other.

"I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>To: Kurt at 5.37 P.M.<br>**_He doesn't know._

**To: Blaine at 5.37 P.M.  
><strong>_Seriously?_

**To: Kurt at 5.38 P.M.  
><strong>_Seriously. I walked right by him when I got in and he smiled at me. SMILED AT ME, Kurt. He's having one of his 'act like a responsible husband and father' days. He doesn't know._

**To: Blaine at 5.39 P.M.  
><strong>_So.. You're not going to tell him?_

**To: Kurt at 5.40 P.M.  
><strong>_No, I'm still telling him. No more lies, right?_

**To: Blaine at 5.40 P.M.  
><strong>_Yeah. Yeah, no more lies. _

**To: Kurt at 5.41 P.M.  
><strong>_I can actually FEEL you worrying through text. Go do something to distract yourself. I'll call you afterwards._

**To: Blaine at 5.42 P.M.  
><strong>_Few things could distract me from this, Blaine._

**To: Kurt at 5.43 P.M.  
><strong>_I bet I could give you some interesting suggestions ;)_

**To: Blaine at 5.44 P.M.  
><strong>_You're doing it again. Okay, go. Do it. I'll be waiting. I love you, okay? Like, a lot._

**To: Kurt at 5.45 P.M.  
><strong>_Yeah, okay. Try not to worry too much, okay? I love you, too. Like, a lot a lot. _

**To: Kurt at 5.48 P.M.  
><strong>_I love you, Kurt._

**To: Blaine at 5.48 P.M.  
><strong>_I love you, too, Blaine._

* * *

><p>"Mom, dad?" Blaine said, voice shaky, as he walked into the kitchen.<p>

His dad was sitting at the table reading the newspaper and his mom was pressing buttons on the microwave. It started up, that soft buzzing sound filling the air.

"Blaine, honey," his mom said, smiling. "What's wrong?"

"Can I.. Can I talk to you both?" Blaine said, trying to sound confident, but his insides were like jelly.

Blaine's dad looked up, frowning slightly. He folded the paper and laid it down in front of him. His mom came and sat down at the table, so Blaine sat down, too.

"I have something to tell you—"

"Is Quinn pregnant?" his mom asked, looking alarmed.

"Wh-what? No—I mean, yes, she is, but—no, that has nothing to, um, do with me—no."

"What do you mean it has nothing to do with you?" his mom asked. "Blaine, if Quinn is—"

"Mom," Blaine said, firmly. "Mom, Quinn is not having my baby."

Blaine watched his mother's face twisting in confusion, her dark eyes slitting, quizzically.

"Care to explain that, Blaine?"

Blaine turned at the sound of his father's voice. It always sent tremors all through him, shaking him to the core even if he knew there was no reason to be afraid sometimes.

"Um," Blaine said. "She—Quinn—she and Puck—Noah Puckerman—they've been, um, seeing one another and—and Quinn is pregnant w-with his baby."

"Oh, Bl—"

Blaine's dad spoke over his mom. "Why did you let that happen?"

"Because I don't care," Blaine said, simply. His parents stared at him in silence for a few seconds, then Blaine cleared his throat. "So, uh, about this thing I wanted to tell you.."

"I'm not sure I want to hear it," Blaine's dad said.

Blaine's heart was beating too quickly. His hands were sweating and he was finding it difficult to breathe. "Regardless, dad," Blaine said. "I need you both to know."

His dad sighed, as if he was bored and his mom simply sat there with her hands folded on the table in front of her. Blaine took a deep breath. This was it. After this, there wouldn't be any more lies. After this, he was free of the dead weight holding him down. He had to do this no matter how hard his hands were shaking. This was it.

"Mom, dad," Blaine said, slowly. "I'm gay."

A millennium of loud silence seemed to pass then, loud because there wasn't a sound, but nothingness seemed to hum annoyingly in his ears. Blaine let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, then looked up at his mother and father. His mom looked stunned. His dad looked angered. Blaine swallowed.

"Say something," he urged, timidly.

"You're not gay, Blaine," his mom shook her head.

"Mom—"

"Blaine," she said, firmly. "You're not gay."

Blaine closed his mouth and just sat there, waiting for something—_anything_—to happen. Nothing did, at least not for another long period of silence.

"Those rumours David Karofsky apparently spread around about you and that—that _boy _you're working with for English..They were true?" Blaine's dad asked and Blaine was surprised he wasn't angrier.

"Yeah," Blaine admitted. "Kurt—that's his name, the boy, I mean—we—he and I.. He's my b—"

"_Don't_."

"Dad, I—"

"Blaine," his father said, with a sort of controlled patience. "I said _don't_."

Blaine stopped and closed his mouth, but then something triggered inside of him. Why shouldn't he? He had every right to speak. Just because he liked boys instead of girls didn't mean he was any less of a person.

"Actually, dad," Blaine spoke up. "I kind of want to talk, get this out in the open."

"You'll do no such thing!" his father said, still rather calm. "We are going to fix this mess, Blaine. No one needs to know that you had this moment of confusion. We'll fi—"

"_Moment of confusion?_" Blaine asked, not believing he had actually said those words. "Dad, I'm not confused, not any more. I _know _who I am and I know who I want to be with and you know what? Everyone else knows, too."

"Everyone already... Blaine. What did you do?" his dad demanded, now losing his temper.

"I came out, dad," Blaine told him. "I told them the truth, because I'm sick of lies. I'm sick of pretending to be someone I'm not." He turned to look at his mom, who looked a little lost. "You're quiet," he told her.

"You're not gay, Blaine," she told him, adamantly. "You're not."

"Mom," Blaine said, shifting so that he was facing her completely. "Mom, I am. I'm gay. I'm in love with a boy. Kurt—he—he's perfect, mom. I—"

"STOP," his mom shouted. "Stop, Blaine. _Stop._"

Blaine sighed, tiredly. He didn't know what else he could do. "Look, I can just leave, whatever," he said, standing up. "It's not like this is my favourite place in the world anyway.."

"SIT DOWN!"

Blaine sat, on instinct, his father's voice pulsating through his body, making his heart race and his stomach twist painfully.

"Now, we are going to say you made a mistake, Blaine," his dad apprised him. "We're going to talk to the Fabrays about you and Quinn and we can fix this."

"Dad!" Blaine said, loudly. "I don't want to talk to the Fabrays about me and Quinn, okay? There isn't anything to fix! I'm in love with Kurt! This is ridiculous!"

Blaine's father's fist came crashing down on the table. Both Blaine and his mom flinched and Blaine couldn't help thinking that had to have hurt. _Good_, he thought.

"This is your English teacher's fault! If she hadn't paired you with that faggot, you would be perfectly normal!"

"You're blaming a half hour, twice a week in the library discussing the life and trials of Jane Eyre for me being gay?" Blaine asked and he couldn't force back the small, amused smile that was dancing on his lips. "Dad, meeting Kurt now has nothing to do with my sexuality. I was going to be gay, regardless. People don't just make you gay, it's just who you are. And I am normal, dad. I'm the exact same person I was before I knew I liked boys."

"It's unnatural, Blaine!"

"Oh, seriously?" Blaine groaned. "Lots of things are unnatural, dad. Freaking hair gel is unnatural, but you still insist on me wearing it every day because it makes me look 'put together'."

"That's not the same thing and you know it!"

"Can we have a civilised conversation without you throwing things and shouting? Please?" Blaine asked. he was sick of trying to shout over his dad.

"Don't y—"

"Dad," Blaine said, loudly. "I can't talk to you if you're going to be like this."

Blaine's dad sat down, his face flushing with anger and frustration. Blaine saw him clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I don't even know where to begin with this," Blaine sighed. "Look, I should hate you, shouldn't I? I mean, let's be honest, I should despise you for everything you've done, but I don't. I don't know why I can't, but I can't and whatever, I can deal with that, but dad, I won't deal with the abuse any more. I'm sick of the bruises and the concussions and the headaches and the years of tears I have shoved down because you didn't deserve my tears."

Blaine's dad opened his mouth, his eyes wild, but Blaine went on.

"So many times I dialled 911, but I hung up the second the operator picked up, because I was too scared. What would happen once you were gone? What would the neighbours think? What would calling the police mean for us as a family? I don't know. I never thought past that, but now, I could do it. I could pick up that phone and I could call the cops, because I don't care what the neighbours think any more, dad. I don't care that you would get put away for this. I don't care what it would do to this family, because this isn't really a family, is it?"

Nobody said anything, so Blaine just took a deep breath and kept going, his heart racing.

"You're supposed to love and care in a family. You don't care about me or mom, all you care about is what other people think. You should be able to love me no matter who I love, but you can't, which makes me think you never really loved me in the first place, which I knew already. But I can't and I won't live in fear of you any more."

Blaine looked back to his mom. "Mom, I know you care too much about people, too, but seriously, they don't matter. I'm happy to tell the world who I am and who I am is a boy who is in love with another boy."

"No, Blaine—"

"Yes, mom," Blaine corrected. "I'll—I'll let you meet him. You'll see."

"No one wants to meet him, Blaine," Blaine's dad spat out. "No one wants to see you holding hands with a fag—"

"Faggot," Blaine said, slowly. "I've had that word flung at me all day, dad and it doesn't really hurt me any more, it's just a word. I've had 'fag' spray painted on my locker, which, whatever, it'll wash off and even if it doesn't, I'm nearly out of there. The thing is, those people who used that word, they're going to keep throwing that insult around, when in actual fact, it just makes them look stupid. Yeah, maybe I'll have to listen to it every day for the rest of my life, or something, but after a while, it tends to get boring. If it doesn't bother me, these people are just wasting their breath, because I don't care. The world is changing, it's time to move with it."

His dad seemed speechless. He sat there scowling, as if he'd just been kicked in the stomach.

"You always said Quinn was perfect for me, but it turns out, she's sort of a bitch," Blaine said. "She went and slept with my best friend, dad. Not so perfect, right? I mean, don't get me wrong, none of us are perfect, but I am so sick of having Quinn this and Quinn that shoved down my throat, when Quinn and I never even liked each other. It's not like that now. I know what it's like to love someone. I never loved Quinn."

"Blaine, Quinn is such a nice girl—"

"Mom," Blaine sighed. "She blackmailed me. She lied to me and told me she was having my baby. She's crazy."

"The Fabrays are a respectable family, Blaine, that's rude," his father told him. He seemed calm again. That was a good thing.

"Okay, sure," Blaine rolled his eyes. "I have something else to tell you."

"Oh, here we go—"

"Yeah, dad, here we go," Blaine nodded. "I didn't apply to any colleges. I hate playing football. I quit the team, I'm done with it. I don't know what I want to do, but I'll figure it out."

"You've thrown your future away?" his dad exploded. _So much for being calm_, Blaine thought. "All because of a gay boy you met at school?"

"No," Blaine said. "No, this wasn't about Kurt. Yeah, he helped me see what I hadn't seen before. He helped me see who I am and what I want and don't want, but I'm glad he did, because I would have wound doing something I hated. It isn't his fault, it's mine. I chose to do this and I'd do it again."

Blaine didn't add the fact that he would have done some research into schools near Kurt, because his dad would have rubbed that in his face.

"Anyway, now you know. Everything," Blaine said, standing up. "I'm going to go get some clothes and leave, because clearly this isn't going to work."

"No, you're not," Blaine's dad said. "We're fixing this."

"There isn't anything to—"

"YES, THERE IS, BLAINE!" hiss dad shouted, angrily. "EVERYTHING NEEDS TO BE FIXED!"

Blaine sighed. He hated this, hated when his dad got like this. "Well, maybe I don't want anything to be 'fixed'! Maybe I just want to go on kissing my boyfriend and being happy, for once in my God damned life."

"Being gay is _wrong,_ Blaine! You're a disgrace to this family! You're disgusting and you need to stop it before it's too late!"

Blaine took slow, even breaths, trying to calm his nerves, his temper. "Disgracing this family was all down to you, dad. You're the violent one. You're the one we all tip-toe around, because we don't want you to have another episode. You're the one sleeping with your secretary, or whoever she is. You're the one that makes this family what it is: A joke. You're the reason mom is the way she is. You're the reason for everything bad that's happened here. I can't handle it any more. I can't pretend like everything is okay when it's really not. I can't pretend I love playing football and that I like girls, just because that's who you think I should be. I like glee, I like boys and I love Kurt and I can't change that and I _won't_ hide it."

"Then leave!"

"You realise I just tried to leave twice and you told me to sit back down, right?"

"Don't talk back to me!" his dad all but growled. "You're a disappointment to this family, Blaine! To me and your mother!"

"I kind of hope I am a disappointment to you, dad," Blaine told him. "Because if I've done anything that has lived up to your expectations, then I should be ashamed of myself, because that means I've been a liar. Nothing that you want me to be is who I am, so good. I hope you're disappointed in me."

"It's wrong, you know," his dad told him. "Being with this boy. It's wrong. Your mother told you it was wrong when you were younger, you should have registered that."

Blaine turned and looked at his mom. "That time I asked you about the prince in the tower," Blaine said. "Did you know?"

She didn't say anything, simply looked down at her hands.

"Mom," Blaine said, softly. "Did you? Did you know before I did?"

"Yes," she uttered. "I tried to snap you out of it! I did! I tried my best! And when you started dating Quinn, I thought it had worked. Blaine, please stop this. Stop it for me."

"I can't just stop, mom," he sighed. "I can't. This is who I am and I have to be who I really am. For me. If you don't like it, okay. There's nothing I can do about that. It doesn't mean I'm going to change. I couldn't if I wanted to."

Blaine stood up and took a deep breath.

"Where will you go?" his mom asked, curiously.

"That boy's obviously," his dad spat out, face twisting in disgust.

"Yeah," Blaine nodded. "Yeah, I'll go to Kurt's, if his dad will have me and I think he will. He's so supportive of Kurt, proud of him, he loves him. I'm glad he has that, because I couldn't bear to see someone I love suffering because of ignorance and anger. So, thanks dad, thanks for making most of my life a misery."

Blaine spun around towards the door and began walking towards it, when he felt himself being shoved a little, as his father stormed by. Blaine lost his balance and tripped. He tried to grab for something, but found only thin air. He hit the ground, his head coming down on the pointed corner of the marble fireplace.

He stayed there, cursing his life for a good ten minutes, his head throbbing painfully. He reached up and his hand came away red. This was great. Blaine pulled himself up and continued on out the door, wobbling a little. He got in his car and the world slipped sideways and he didn't know what to do.

Blaine felt his pocket buzzing then and he took his phone out and blinked down at the screen.

**4 MISSED CALLS FROM: KURT.**

He hit the green calling button and pressed the phone to his ear, the one on the side of his head that wasn't injured. It only rang once before Kurt answered.

"Blaine?"

"Kurt," Blaine said.

"Are you okay? You sound.. Blaine?"

"Think you can come over and pick me up?" Blaine asked and it hurt when he opened his mouth to wide.

"I'm on my way," Kurt said and Blaine heard him closing doors. "Are you okay?"

"Just dandy," Blaine said.

There was a short pause and Blaine knew that Kurt wasn't convinced.

"Give me ten minutes, babe."

* * *

><p>"What the.. Blaine?" Kurt felt the cold panic sweeping through his body as he pulled Blaine's car door open and saw him sitting there, looking dazed, a large gash on the side of his head. "Wh-what happened?"<p>

"I tripped," Blaine said, groggily.

"Right," Kurt said. "Let's get you out of there."

* * *

><p>"Kurt, seriously, I did. I tripped," Blaine told Kurt once they were back at his house. They were in the kitchen and Kurt was washing his wound. Blaine kept wincing in agony.<p>

"I don't get why you would lie to me."

"Kurt, I'm not lying, I—ow!—he flew past me too quickly when I wasn't expecting it and he hit off me, but I tripped a fell."

"So, you think he just did it by mistake," Kurt deadpanned.

"I honestly do."

"Jesus, Blaine," Kurt sighed. "Your head is split open."

"Think I need a doctor?"

"I don't know," Kurt said, worriedly. "I'm going to call my dad."

* * *

><p>"It's sort of deep, but it's just a cut," Burt said, studying Blaine's head. "Should I go ro—"<p>

"No!" Blaine said, quickly, then blushed. "I mean, no. It's okay. He—I just tripped, I promise."

Burt didn't look convinced and Kurt groaned, tiredly, but they let it go. "Okay," Kurt said. "I'll wrap it up and then we can go downstairs."

Burt nodded. "You want anything?"

"I'm good," Kurt said, wrapping a small bandage across Blaine's head. "What about you?" he asked him.

"No, thank you," Blaine said. "I just—Are you sure you don't mind me here?"

"Don't be silly," Burt said. "Whenever you need to stay, stay."

"Thank you," Blaine said again. Burt shrugged and disappeared out of the room. Burt Hummel was the nicest man he knew. "When I grow up, I want to be your dad, Kurt."

Kurt scoffed a bit. "That," he told Blaine. "Is all kinds of disturbing."

* * *

><p>"Kiss me."<p>

"Blaine," Kurt said, warningly. "You're in pain."

"Yeah, but you're beautiful and you should kiss me."

Kurt wavered a bit. No one had ever called him beautiful before. Blaine had said it while they were having sex and when he was drunk, but he had never simply looked at him and said it like he meant it.

"I—no one's ever called me that before," he said, quietly.

"What? Beautiful?" Blaine asked, as if he didn't believe him. "Are you crazy? have I never told you that before? Am _I_ crazy?"

Kurt smiled and inched closer, so that their shoulders were touching. "I think you're delirious, Blaine." He had taken strong pain killers, they were clearly impacting on him.

"Why won't you kiss me?" Blaine asked. "Is it because I'm homeless? You won't kiss a homeless guy? God. I'm going to have to live under that bridge with that guy... Brett. Or outside the post office with Patches and we can bark at people together. I'm excited."

Kurt chuckled and grabbed Blaine's hand. "Brett doesn't live under a bridge, he just _smells _homeless," Kurt pointed out. "And anyway, you're not homeless. You can stay here."

"What good is staying here going to do if you won't even kiss me?" Blaine pouted.

Kurt rolled his eyes and leaned across and kissed him. "Happy?"

"You're pretty," Blaine smiled, eyes half lidded, just small glints of gold peeking out from beneath his sallow lids, framed by those dark lashes.

"I should give you painkillers all the time," Kurt joked. "So many compliments."

"You deserve to know you're perfect," Blaine smiled. "Plus, I'm not _that _drugged."

Kurt smiled at him. He looked so young lying there, with the white bandage around his head, wearing a pair of Kurt's pyjamas, which were too long on him. He looked so adorable.

"Do you feel better?" Kurt asked. "That you had it out with them?"

"I'll tell you when I can feel my head again," Blaine grimaced. "I suppose sex is out of the question?" he asked, looking up at Kurt hopefully.

"Completely out of the question," Kurt said, adamantly.

Blaine sighed and laid his head back on the pillows carefully. He made a small hissing sound when he turned his head.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked, concerned.

"Fine," Blaine nodded. "I can't believe I tripped like that."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Right."

"I know you don't believe me, but I tripped. He moved swiftly by me and I tripped over my own feet."

"Okay," Kurt nodded. He reached down and grabbed Blaine's hand that was making its way towards Kurt's inner thigh. "Look, you've been through a lot today. Let's just not for tonight. Just be here, sleep, cry, whatever you want to do."

"I won't cry," Blaine told him.

"You can if you want to, you know that, right?"

"I know," Blaine nodded. "But I don't have any reason to cry. It could have gone a million times worse and I expected it to. He doesn't deserve my tears, he never has. All I did was tell the truth and I'm not going to cry because they didn't like it."

"Have I told you I loved you today?" Kurt smiled.

"Yes, but I think you should tell me again." Blaine smirked.

"I love you."

"Even though I'm homeless?"

Kurt rolled is blue eyes. "Yes, Blaine, even though you're homeless."

"What happens when homeless people are horny?"

"Oh my God, Blaine," Kurt breathed.

"I'm serious, though," Blaine reasoned. "It's not like they can just whip it ou—"

"Blaine!"

"You should just like, kiss me again."

"Seems like the only way to shut you up," Kurt muttered, as he bent to press his lips to Blaine's again. Kurt pulled back and then Blaine was pushing him down. Kurt looked up at him, one eyebrow raised.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he told Blaine.

"Guess what?"

"What?" Kurt asked, smiling.

"You called me babe on the phone today."

"Did I?" Kurt asked, feeling the heat creeping up the back of his neck. "I was caught up in the moment, I was worried about you."

Blaine sighed and pulled Kurt down to kiss him again. This time, the kiss was deeper, longer, more breath-taking.

"You should stop making excuses," Blaine whispered.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kurt smiled, sadly. "You've been through so much over the past couple of days."

"Are you kidding?" Blaine grinned and it appeared to hurt. "I'm finally free!"

Kurt felt Blaine's hand resting on the small of his back, then and something kissed his skin where his shirt had slid up. He leaned back and took Blaine's hand to see what had happened. He saw the bracelet then and his smile faded.

"You didn't take it off."

"No," Blaine said. "Why would I?"

"Because I threw mine back at you." He chewed his bottom lip.

"So I can give it back to you," Blaine shrugged, then he was humming. It took Kurt a few seconds to figure out what the song was, then he realised it was the song on the bracelet, 'Sideways'. "You know, I kept wishing everything I felt for you would go away," Blaine said, studying his bracelet. "I know they never will. I don't want them to. Ever."

"You want to keep getting knocked sideways for the rest of your life?" Kurt smirked.

"Absolutely," Blaine told him. "You know what else we can do sideways, Kurt?" Blaine raised an eyebrow mischievously.

"No, Blaine," Kurt smiled.

"I was just kidding," Blaine smiled back. "Go put on a movie."

"Okay," Kurt said. "What movie?"

"Um," Blaine looked thoughtful. "A horror movie."

"Why?" Kurt asked. "Hasn't your day been horrible enough?"

Blaine rolled his eyes, then stopped. "Ouch, I forgot I couldn't do that," he muttered. "Anyway, I was hoping you were kind of scared of horror and would end up having to curl up in my arms.

"You think I need a horror movie to do that?" Kurt asked.

"You don't?" Blaine asked and Kurt shook his head. "Well, in that case, scrap the movie. Get over here and hold me because my life sucks."

Kurt went up closer and encompassed his waist with his arms.

"Well," Blaine said, smiling now. "Not every part of it sucks. At least, not unless I ask nicely."

"Were those paracetamol or Viagra?" Kurt chuckled.

"I don't need Viagra to want you, baby."

"Baby, huh?" Kurt raised an eyebrow, his heart stammering a little.

"If you get babe, I get baby," Blaine said, his fingers playing with Kurt's hair.

"Okay," Kurt said, carefully. "In that case, I love you, babe."

"And I love you, baby," Blaine grinned. "See? We make a great team."

"Blaine?"

"What?"

"You are high."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>I have to mention my friend Fallon (justxlosersxlikexme tumblr) because she added the idea for Blaine saying he would have to live under a bridge like Brett. And she's overall just amazing and leaves me long reviews in my ask every day. Also, Rebecca (m-arvel tumblr) because she puts up with me and reads parts in advance for me, too. And thank you to everyone who blogs about this. The Sideways tag is easily the most amusing thing ever to me lately lol.<strong>

**I'll try my best to update tomorrow :) Let me know what you think :)**


	29. Chapter 29

**(I own nothing) Okay, this seemed to take a long time, even if it actually didn't. I don't know what to say, really, except I just.. I had to do this for the next part to work. :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 29:<strong>

"We should go out." Blaine waited for a response, but Kurt didn't flicker. He rolled his eyes and elbowed his boyfriend gently in the side. Kurt rolled over, with a quiet groan, but was still asleep. "Kuuuuuuurt," Blaine said, leaning closer to Kurt's ear. Blaine smiled and pressed his hand to the inside of Kurt's thigh and then slowly, slid it upwards and then Kurt was awake and sitting up.

"What the..?"

"Trying to wake you up," Blaine grinned.

"Other people have alarm clocks," Kurt said, but he was smiling. "I get molested in my sleep."

Blaine sat up and faced Kurt, crossing his legs.

"What did you want, anyway?" Kurt asked, as Blaine entwined their fingers together. "How's the head?"

"It's okay," Blaine said, but it was still throbbing a little bit. "Buttttt," he said, stretching out the 't' sound. "I was waking you up to say we should go out."

Kurt blinked a couple of times. "I thought we were already going out?" he made it a question.

"No," Blaine shook his head. "I meant _out _out. As in on a date. We've never gone out on a date."

Kurt seemed to stare at him for longer than was really necessary and then he smiled, slightly, his eyebrows raising. "Um, okay," he breathed. "Where has this come from?"

Blaine shrugged and lay back against Kurt. "I was just thinking about how we sort of got into this whole thing really quickly," he said. "Like, we started with sex and _then _feelings came into it, when it should have been the other way round. Plus, dating should have slotted in there somewhere."

They both spoke at the same time then.

"We don't have to."

"Unless you don't want to."

"Oh."

"Oh."

"Oh, what?" Kurt asked.

"You don't want to," Blaine said.

"I didn't say that," Kurt said, pushing Blaine gently off, so that they could face one another. "I just meant I don't want you to feel like you have to take me out. Sex and feelings is more than fine with me."

"Yeah," Blaine smiled. "But imagine sex and feelings and _dating._ Or! Imagine dating, then feelings, then _sex_."

Kurt rolled his sky blue eyes and chuckled. "I think it's time for your medication, _babe_."

Blaine lay back again and Kurt cradled his head in his arms, then began to unravel the bandage from around his head. Blaine closed his eyes when Kurt gently pulled the bandage off of the cut. It stung, but wasn't hurting as badly as it had the night before.

"Ew," he heard Kurt say.

"'Thought you said you loved me," Blaine fake pouted.

"I'll love you in a minute," Kurt said, crawling out from beneath Blaine and standing up. "Be right back."

"Does loving me in a minute mean a blowjob?" Blaine called after Kurt, as he disappeared into the bathroom. He lay back, smiling, because even though his life had literally come apart at the seams and would probably never be sewn back together, he still had these little moments with Kurt. _Not for long_, his mind said, automatically, but he shoved that away, not wanting to think about it.

He lay there, just thinking, until Kurt came back a few minutes later, holding a damp towel and a fresh bandage. He looked at Blaine and smiled. "Have you figured it out?" he asked after a moment.

"Hmm?" Blaine asked, pushing himself up. "Figured what out?"

"The meaning of life, or whatever mind-boggling concept you were just trying to understand."

"Huh?" Blaine furrowed his dark eyebrows.

"Nothing," Kurt smiled, sitting back down. "You just looked as if you were thinking about something really deep and meaningful." Kurt dabbed the wet towel to Blaine's head and he winced a little at first, but then settled down. "So, what was it?" Kurt asked.

"What?"

"That you were thinking about."

"Oh," Blaine said. "You."

"Me?" Kurt asked.

"I'm always thinking about you."

"Cheese ball," Kurt grinned, unravelling the new bandage.

"I was just thinking," Blaine began. "About how you said no one had ever called you beautiful before." He tilted his head backwards so that he could see Kurt, who was blushing now. "Stop getting embarrassed," Blaine smiled. "I'm serious, though. How does that work?"

"How does what, um, work?" Kurt asked, taking Blaine's head in his hands again. He began to wrap the bandage back across the gash.

"You getting through eighteen years of not being called beautiful."

Kurt only shrugged.

"You don't even see it, do you?" Blaine asked, sitting up and then flipping himself onto his stomach in front of Kurt. He reached out and took his hands. "I'm being serious. You're so perfect. It literally _hurts _when I think about how perfect you are. Just—seriously, you're so attractive."

"Um," Kurt said. "Is this some kind of strategical flattery?"

"You wound me, baby."

"What do you want, _babe_?"

Blaine grinned. "Nothing," he told him. "I do, however, think you should let me take you out and flaunt you to those who have less attractive boyfriends and they can be insanely jealous while I get to take you back here and undress you and put my tongue on every last inch of your body."

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Oh," Kurt nodded and Blaine glanced down as Kurt crossed his legs over his growing erection.

"_Oh_," Blaine grinned and he pushed himself up, then crawled across until he was looming over a flushed Kurt. "Did I get you all hot and bothered?" Kurt swallowed and Blaine's fingers went to the waistband of his pyjama bottoms. "Lie back."

Kurt obliged and Blaine slid his hand down his pants and palmed Kurt's half-hard cock through his briefs. "So, uh," Kurt managed. "Ab-about going out. Um, where are you—we going to go?"

"I was thinking Breadstix," Blaine informed him as he slipped back down and placed a gentle kiss to Kurt's hip, where he had slid his pants down slightly.

"Br-Breadstix?" Kurt asked. "But everyone goes there.

"_Exactly._"

"Oh," Kurt uttered.

"Oh?" Blaine asked, and he wrapped his hand around Kurt's cock.

"_Ohhh_," Kurt emitted.

"That's what I was thinking," Blaine smiled.

* * *

><p>"I feel like everyone's staring," Kurt told Blaine on the other side of the table at Breadstix."<p>

"Please," Blaine said. "We could just be friend having dinner together."

Kurt watched as Blaine reached across and laid a hand over his.

"Or not," Kurt uttered.

"Relax," Blaine smiled, his eyes bright and glittering in the dim overhead lights.

"I am relaxed," Kurt said, twisting his hand in Blaine's. "I'm merely stating a fact."

"I like when you merely state facts."

"That makes no sense," Kurt told him. "I knew you should have waited before you took those painkillers again."

Blaine grinned like a mad man and began to play with his straw. "I didn't take them."

"Oh," Kurt said. "Well, then, that's awkward."

Blaine chuckled and gave Kurt's hand a squeeze, ignoring the looks of disapproval the man at the next table was shooting them. "I'm sorry we didn't date sooner."

Kurt smiled and squeezed back. "Well, you were already dating someone for most of the start of this," Kurt pointed out.

"Even still," Blaine said. His eyes darkened then and he leaned a little closer. "You never deserved to be treated the way I treated you at the beginning, Kurt.

"You're sure you didn't take those pills?"

"No," Blaine smiled, the corners of his mouth tilting slightly upwards. "Really, though. I was horrible to you. I should have just given in the second I knew I liked you. I should have left Quinn. I should have told you how I felt. I should have given you everything you deserve right from the beginning."

Kurt smiled, crookedly. "It's okay."

"It's not," Blaine disagreed. "I promise you that from now on, I'll treat you with the love and care you deserve. I'll treat you like.. Like a prince!"

Kurt laughed. "Actually, I was princess, remember?"

"Pfft," Blaine scoffed. "I'll be princess. I can totally see you riding into castle grounds on a white horse, waving a sword in the air, the sun colliding with the silver point, casting a radiant glow all across your flawless, milky-white, skin, your dazzling blue eyes shining, like the ocean on a summer's day."

"Blaine, since when are you a poet?" Kurt spluttered. "I suppose I'm supposed to picture you in a fabulous, pink ballgown?"

"Only if that lights your fire," Blaine wiggled an eyebrow.

Kurt choked a bit. Blaine had just said 'lights your fire'. He shook his head and sat back, smiling.

"Think you'll ever forgive me?" Blaine asked, the ghost of a smile still on his pale lips.

"I never held anything against you," Kurt apprised him.

Blaine got that glint in his eye, then. "Technically not true."

"Eat your bread sticks, Blaine," Kurt shook his head.

Blaine reached across and took a bread stick then lifted it to his mouth and started flicking his tongue across it. Kurt blushed, remembering how Blaine had done just that earlier that day when he'd taken his pyjama bottoms off and..

_He was doing it on purpose._

Kurt frowned at Blaine, whose golden brown eyes were locked with his blue ones. The corners of Blaine's mouth tilted up into a smile when he realised Kurt had made the connection. He started to suck the bread stick into his mouth then and Kurt could only stare at him.

"I love when you get all flustered," Blaine told him, taking his mouth off the bread stick for a split second.

"We're in public," Kurt hissed, but he couldn't take his eyes off Blaine's stupid tongue.

"Oh, I know," Blaine grinned. "And I remember how much you liked it last time I did that to you in public."

Kurt looked away quickly, remembering their encounter in the school toilets. "I'll make you pay for this," he told Blaine.

"Ooh," Blaine smirked. "Is that a promise?"

* * *

><p>"Where's Blaine?" Rachel asked, sitting down on the sofa. She took her hat off and left it in her lap.<p>

"Sleeping," Kurt told her, sitting down beside Mercedes. "He passed out after taking his pills."

Which was half true. Blaine had gotten a tad hyper following taking his pills and only after an hour or so of grinning like an idiot and making sexual innuendos did he finally flake out and go to sleep.

"Is he doing okay?" Mercedes enquired.

"Yeah," Kurt smiled. "Yeah, he's doing fine."

"What's Blaine doing after school anyway?" Rachel asked, curiously.

Kurt's smile disappeared.

"Nothing," Kurt said. "Or at least he has nothing planned."

Blaine felt a little dizzy from the meds, so he pressed his back to the wall and just listened. He didn't want to walk in while they were talking about him, because that would make everything insanely awkward, so he waited.

"So, what's going to happen?" Blaine heard Mercedes ask.

"I have no idea," Kurt sighed. "I just.. I wasn't sure about it—us, when I found out he hadn't applied anywhere, but he convinced me to give it a try and I wanted to, so I caved, said yes, but now.. Now I just don't know. Not now that he is virtually out on the streets and without any kind of stability or love in his life. It's like—like I'm all he has."  
>Which was true, but he didn't want that holding Kurt back.<p>

"I just.. I don't know what to do. Because I love him, I really do, but.. I don't know. What's going to happen when I have to leave?"

Rachel and Mercedes were both quiet. Kurt went on when he saw they had no solutions. "Sometimes I.. Sometimes I think I should just tell him I don't love him, that we're going nowhere, that I can't do it any more, because I don't know how to leave him, but I won't ever do that. That would be the most selfish thing I could ever do."

"That's what I would do," Rachel added. "My career comes first."

"I can't put my career first, Rachel," Kurt said. "I don't know for sure that my career will ever take off, but Blaine.."

"You can't be sure it'll work out with Blaine in the long run anyway," Rachel shook her head. "You'll regret it if you don't go, Kurt, trust me."

Kurt sighed, sounding worn out. "I just.. I have a feeling about him, Rachel, like he's the one. I just.. I don't know what to do. He has nothing. How am I supposed to claim I love him, then leave him?"

Blaine felt his heart contracting in his chest. He sat there, pressing the back of his head to the wall, just listening.

"I know you feel bad for him, Kurt, but this is your life," Mercedes pointed out.

"But he's a huge part of my life."

"You've known him for five months, Kurt," Rachel deadpanned.

"Right," Kurt said. "And in those five months, he's changed so much and come out of himself and he—he's found himself. If I leave him, what's going to happen? Will he fall apart again? Will he go back to hiding, pretending, just because it's the easiest way to get through? I can't let him do that."

"Maybe you should talk to him," Mercedes suggested.

"I don't want to hurt him, Mercedes."

"If he loves you, he'll let you go, Kurt," Rachel uttered.

"I don't want him to let me go."

Blaine didn't want to let him go, either, but for once, Rachel had a point.

* * *

><p>Blaine stared up at the white ceiling, into the nothingness above him. He felt as if he couldn't really breathe properly. He was light headed and his heart was hammering and he felt sick, but he knew he had to do it. He knew there was no other way.<p>

It was about thirty minutes or so before Blaine heard Kurt coming down the steps. He sat up and tried to act natural.

"Hey," Blaine said, when Kurt walked into his bedroom.

"You're awake," Kurt smiled and sat down on the bed. "Sleep okay?"

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

"Huh?" Kurt asked. "Talk to you about what?"

Blaine pushed himself up so that he could look right at Kurt. "I heard you talking to Mercedes and Rachel," he provided. "You should have talked to me."

Kurt's expression went blank for a couple of heart beats, then he frowned. "It was too soon, Blaine. Everything happened at once and I—I didn't want to add to the drama."

Blaine studied him. His face was paler than usual and his eyes held a sadness. Blaine wished he could hug him, hold him, make him smile again, but he didn't. "I love you, Kurt," Blaine told him.

Kurt's eyebrows furrowed. "I love you, too."

"Which is why I'm letting you go," Blaine said, voice breaking a little. "I—Rachel and Mercedes are right. This is your life, your career. If I held you back, that would make me selfish and a horrible human being and it would certainly go against me loving you, so I'm not going to do that. I'm going to let you go. I'll leave, I'll figure out where to stay and then after that, I'll figure out what I'll do after we graduate, but you were right the first time round. Breaking up earlier rather than later is the best thing to do. It doesn't make it easier, exactly, but at least we won't have a million more memories to add to the pain. This is for the best."

"Blaine, no," Kurt shook his head. "Stay. Don't leave, stay. We'll figure it out."

Blaine shut his eyes, tightly, then opened them again. "No," he shook his head, adamant. "No, this is how it has to be. If I didn't do this, it would mean I don't give a crap about you, but I do. I love you and you're everything to me, so I'm letting you go."

Kurt's eyes were shining now and Blaine hoped he wouldn't cry, because if he cried he would set him off, too and he might give in if he saw Kurt crying.

"I don't want you to let me go."

"I don't want to let you go, either, but I have to," Blaine explained. "Can you see where I'm coming from?"

"Yes, but I—Blaine, listen," Kurt sat forward and took Blaine's hand in his. Blaine's skin still tingled every time he touched him. "We could try and work something out. Honestly, we'll figure it out. We'll make it through this. I love you. I do. I just—Blaine, I need you in my life. I can't imagine a day without having you in my life. Don't leave."

Blaine was tempted. He wanted to just cry, or sleep, or kiss Kurt senseless, but this was what he had to do. He had no place in Kurt's bright future, no matter how hard it hurt him to admit it. It was true and this was the right thing to do.

"I'm sorry," Blaine told him and he really was sorry. "You'll get through this, though. You're going to make it, Kurt and when you do, you won't remember me. I'll always remember you, though. When you're up there on Broadway, or whatever, I'll be able to sit back and smile and say to myself '_he loved you once. Kurt Hummel love you once_' and that'll be enough, just knowing I let you go for a reason, that you went on to do amazing things."

Kurt sniffled, but he was smiling, sadly. "I'll look out for Blaine Anderson in the audience every single night."

"I'll be there," Blaine promised, though if he was living under a bridge, he wasn't sure how he would be able to keep such a promise.

"Look, is there any way I can change your mind? Any way at all? Please, Blaine?"

"No," Blaine told him. "This is what I want, okay?"

Kurt sighed and his breaths came out shakily and broken. "At least stay at my house," he said. "I can't have you roaming the streets, Blaine."

"I'll figure it out," he said and he leaned across and kissed Kurt on the lips, gently. "It'll be okay."

"I love you, babe," Kurt told him and a small sob escaped his throat.

Blaine chuckled. "Love you, too, baby."

* * *

><p>Blaine hadn't spoken to him once since he had broken it off. He had heard from Mike that he was staying at his house for a while and Kurt was glad that he was somewhere safe, warm. It broke his heart knowing he had thrown away the only thing he had just so that he would have a chance at a real future, away from Lima.<p>

Kurt would have been happy to try to figure something out, somehow. He wasn't sure what exactly, but he wished he had given him that chance. He loved Blaine far too much to just let him go, but it didn't seem as if he had much of a choice.

Blaine smiled at Kurt after the New Directions won their regionals competition. Kurt had smiled back and Blaine had looked away and that was the epitome of their communication. Kurt sighed, because e missed his boyfriend. He missed him being crazy and whiny and horny and funny and smart and stupid and all of those things that Blaine was.

He just really missed his boyfriend.

* * *

><p><strong>To: Kurt at 6.32 P.M.<br>**_Kurt, have you seen Blaine? He left at around 8AM and I haven't seen him since. Mike._

* * *

><p>"Hummel"<p>

"Why are you at my house, Puckerman?" Kurt demanded to know. "How do you even know where I live?"

"Jacob Ben Israel told me," he explained. He was wearing his football kit and holding his helmet under his arm. "I need a favour."

"I don't do favour for people I dislike."

Puck groaned and looked as if he wanted to punch something. Kurt watched him through bored eyes. "Look," Puck said, patiently. "I need to know where Anderson is, okay? This game depends on everything. We need him, so where is he?"

"I have no idea," Kurt said. "No one has seen him since 8AM, so if you don't mind, I'm sort of busy trying to fi—"

"Hummel, it's 6.45 now, the game starts at 8," Puck said. "_We need him_."

"He hates you," Kurt exploded. "He's hardly going to do you a favour after everything you've done! Now get the hell away from my house!"

Kurt didn't give Puck a chance to speak, he simply slammed the door and went back into the kitchen and re-read Mike's text. He couldn't control the fast paced beating of his heart. He was worried something had happened to him. Blaine didn't have a lot to live for. Kurt shook his head. He didn't want to think about anything like that.

He dialled Blaine's number and waited. He never picked up.

* * *

><p>"Jesus, Blaine," Kurt said, breathlessly. "You couldn't pick up your phone?"<p>

Kurt went and sat down in the grass next to him. He had come to the field after having called Blaine at least sixty times. He'd had a feeling he would be here, but he had still been scared.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine asked.

"Looking for you."

"I'm fine."

"You could have picked up your phone and told me, then," Kurt said, catching his breath again. "I was worried sick."

Blaine sighed and buried his face in his hands. His hair was a mess and he looked tired, worn, like he hadn't slept in months.

"Noah Puckerman showed up at my house," Kurt said.

Blaine's head shot up quickly and his bright eyes were wide. "Did he do anyth—"

"He was looking for you, actually," Kurt shook his head. "I don't suppose you have any intention in going to the game?"

"Screw them and their game."

"Well," Kurt said. "I think you should let them know you're not going."

"What? Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"The right thing to do," Blaine laughed a bit. "The right thing to do always sucks."

Kurt nodded. He wished he could fix this, wished he could help Blaine get through it, wished he could help himself, but he didn't know how. Blaine flung his phone at Kurt.

"You do it."

Kurt did and then gave Blaine his phone back. "Come back to my house," Kurt said. "I just want you to be safe."

"Look, I'm surviving, okay? I don't know what else to do!"

Kurt reached down and grabbed Blaine's hand, even though he tried to pull away. "Regardless of what happened," Kurt said. "I still love you and I still want you alive and well, so please. I'm asking you, please just come back to my house."

"I can't," Blaine stressed. "I'm fine here, really, I am."

"Fine," Kurt said and he lay back. "I'm staying with you."

"No," Blaine breathed. "No, go home, Kurt. Don't do this for me, it's freezing out here."

Kurt was adamant. He wasn't going to leave Blaine in danger. He needed him to be safe. He loved him and he wanted him to be okay, even if okay was the last thing Blaine was.

"I'm staying right here."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

Blaine looked down at him and he smiled and Kurt smiled, too, because Blaine's smile was infectious. "You're an idiot."

"Maybe," Kurt said and he sat up a little. "But I still love you and I still want you safe, so I'm staying with you, no matter what."

"I love you, too," Blaine told him.

They kept their eyes locked for a long time, golden discs and blue orbs just gazing into one another and Kurt couldn't help what he did next. He moved slowly forward and closed the gap between them, catching Blaine's mouth with his own. He felt Blaine gasping into the kiss and then he was whispering against his lips.

"This doesn't mean anything," he exhaled. "I'm—I'm letting you go. It's j-just a kiss. It means n-nothing."

Kurt pulled back a little and looked into Blaine's eyes, his lips still tingling from the kiss.

"A kiss between us will never mean nothing."

And he pressed his lips to his again and they fell back in the grass, their shadows entwining and they became one in the faint opalescent glow of the rising moon.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry for breaking them up again, it just has to be like this for the next part to work out. Don't kill me yet, I still have a bit to go :)<strong>


	30. Chapter 30

**(I own nothing!) Okay, this chapter is just a big bunch of FEELS and Blaine being his little romantic, cheesy self and emotional speeches and stuff. Fun :P The song lyrics at the start are from this: www(.)youtuberepeat(.)com/watch/?v=aAlutTOh6yg and the lyrics are here: www(.)songmeanings(.)net/songs/view/3530822107858784753/ and it's literally the perfect song for this whole situation. Okay, I'll stop talking now :)**

* * *

><p><em>The damage has been done,<br>__and I can't make you stay,  
><em>_But all I'm asking is for thirty seconds on the clock to talk,  
><em>_Before you go away,  
><em>_'Cause as the strings swell in,  
><em>_It's clear to me what could have been,  
><em>_If I was ready when you were. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30:<strong>

"Finn asked me to prom!"

Kurt, Mercedes, Tina, Santana and Brittany sat there in silence, just watching Rachel.

"That was your big announcement?" Mercedes asked.

Rachel's wide grin faded and she looked confused. "Yes," she said. "I don't understand, this is big news! I wanted to share it with my girls." Kurt raised a thin brow. "And Kurt!" she added, quickly.

"Rachel, Finn is your boyfriend," Tina said. "Of course he asked you to prom. Just like Mike asked me."

"I'm going with Sam," Mercedes grinned and her statement was followed by a loud chorus of shrill screams.

Kurt was happy for Mercedes, but he couldn't help feeling down. He missed Blaine and it seemed as if everyone had a boyfriend, but him. Kurt sighed and sat back, wondering at what point in the future he would be over this and ready to move on. He came up with nothing.

* * *

><p>"Look, you know me by now," Blaine said, following the librarian down the counter, as she went to file papers. "Sure, I vomited <em>one time<em> and it's not as if I could help that. Where's your sense of romance?"

"L232," she said, pointing towards the shelves.

"What—no," Blaine shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I _know _where the romance section is, I've been sitting there since September. I _vomited _there." He paused as she gave him an unamused look. "Okay, not helping. Look, I just need you to make sure no one else sits there. Just for like, ten minutes. _Please._"

The librarian sighed, tiredly and laid a stack of paper down on her desk. "Okay," she said. "Fine, but any longer than that and the deal's off."

"Really? Thank you!" Blaine beamed. "I promise to stop being loud and to stop laughing and being a nuisance while I'm here. And I'll never vomit here again! Thank you!"

* * *

><p><strong>1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: BLAINE.<strong>

_Hey. Wanna meet me in the library at 6 and we can get that assignment done? -Blaine._

* * *

><p>Kurt pushed the library door open and walked in, the familiar scent of old books hitting him the moment he stepped inside. The library was empty, as usual, only the librarian perched in her chair behind the counter, her thin, wire, gold-framed glasses sitting on her nose as she studied a book. She glanced up at Kurt, then looked back down at her book. Kurt turned to walk towards their usual table, but found that Blaine was not yet there.<p>

Kurt rolled his eyes, sighed and went towards the table to sit and wait. However, when Kurt reached the table, he stopped. There was something sitting on the table, right in front of the chair that Kurt usually sat in. He stood there for another couple of seconds, then went forward to see what it was.

When he sat into his seat, Kurt saw that a small scrap of paper was sitting there. On top of the paper, was a single orange rose and also a pool of familiar silver links. Kurt furrowed his eyebrows and unfolded the scrap of paper, slowly and quietly, because he was, after all, in a public library.

Kurt squinted down at the page and read the messily scrawled words.

_Hi, Kurt :)_

_I'm not there, obviously, which means I lied and we said no more lies, but this is a good kind of lie, even if that might not be possible. But hopefully you think it's a good kind, too. _

_I'm just going to get to the point, because I asked the librarian (God, we are always there, why don't we know her name by now?) to keep the table free for like, ten minutes. I bet there's no one there, though. I bet it's just you. It's always just you, anyway. Always just you._

_Anyway, to the point. I'm asking you to go to prom. With me. I'm asking you to go to prom with me. Will you go to prom with me? I rephrased this in my head about six billion times, which is stupid, right? Because we know each other and I should just ask. So, will you go? I mean, as my date, obviously, even if we're not how we were? _

_You should meet me at our field. That's where I am now, waiting for you. Anxiously. Pick up your bracelet, put it on, stick that rose in your pocket and get in your car and come down here and put me out of my misery, because I'm most probably pulling my hair out right now, which is a lot of wasted hair gel. See, now I'm babbling._

_See you in a few. _

_I love you (still)._

_Blaine._

Kurt shoved the paper and the bracelet in his pocket and took the rose carefully in his hands, then stood up.

* * *

><p>"You came."<p>

"Putting you out of your misery," Kurt said, walking towards Blaine, smiling, the rose still in his hand.

Blaine looked flustered and uneasy as he stood up quickly and brushed grass off his pants. Kurt stopped a couple of feet away from him. "Um," Blaine cleared his throat. "Before you say no, I have something I want to say."

"Blaine, I—"

"No, please. Hear me out," Blaine said. Kurt gave him a small nod and Blaine exhaled. "Okay, so, prom. I—look, Kurt I know that we're breaking away and you're leaving and I sort of broke things off, but I just—I want one more day, one more real, full, good day with you, before you run away into this amazing new life that I don't belong in."

"Blaine, d—"

"Sit down for a minute?" Kurt sat and Blaine moved to sit next to him. He reached out and took the rose from Kurt. "Do you know what this means?" he asked, holding up the flower.

"An orange rose?" Kurt shook his head. "No idea."

Blaine smiled. "It's not an orange rose," he told Kurt. "I mean, yeah, it looks like an orange rose, but it's actually called a yellow rose with red tips, or something like that. I googled rose meanings for this and this felt like the right one to give to you. Let me explain," he sat up a little. "A yellow rose with red tips symbolises friendship and falling in love, which was sort of how we begun, y'know? And we're maybe sort of back to the friendship thing now, though not really. We'll never really be friends I don't think.

"And you said orange at first glance, right?" Kurt nodded. "An orange rose symbolises, um, let's see.. enthusiasm, desire and fascination." Blaine paused, then looked away from the flower and up into Kurt's eyes. "The first day I saw you changed my life. That might sound cliché and cheesy, but it's true. It was strange, because up until then I thought I had my entire life mapped out in front of me, but then I met you and everything was different. The first time I laid eyes on you was the first day of school. You were down the hall struggling with your locker and I remember thinking you were so different to everyone else. You move with this—this grace, this elegance and style and fluidity that no one else moves with.

"I remember thinking that you would probably end up inside your locker by the time the day was out and I also remember thinking there was something inexplicably interesting about you, something that just caught my attention and I had no idea why. Or maybe I just didn't want to admit it to myself, I don't know. I remember thinking I was sick, my stomach felt empty and hollow and I felt dizzy and I didn't want to slushie you. I thought about how you must have spent hours getting your hair as perfect as it was and that one slushie would mean hours of styling to precision would just go to waste and I didn't want to do it. I did it because that was what I thought I was supposed to do, because they were grinning at me, their eyes urging me to do it. I regretted it the moment I did it. I've regretted it every day since.

"I remember your eyes were what caught my attention, I mean, don't get me wrong, you're beautiful, you are, but you have these—these _eyes _that are never just one colour. They're every colour under the sun, yet somehow I can still pin point them as blue. I remember thinking you had these really piercing blue eyes that seemed to plead with me not to do it, and I almost didn't. I almost turned around and walked away because I didn't want those brilliant blue eyes to become red rimmed and watery from the damned slushie. After everyone left, I went back for the schedule and I took it away with me, because you were this big mystery to me and I wanted to solve you, figure you out. I had Jacob give me your details and I slipped that clean schedule inside your locker and I watched. I watched you when it fell out and hit the ground. I watched you jump back in surprise and I wondered what you must have gone through that had you so jumpy, but when you saw what it was and that someone had taken their time to do that for you, you were pleasantly surprised, touched even and that gave me this crazy thrill, to know that I'd maybe made you smile for that split second.

"Then I saw that we had class together. I've been in Mrs Flynn's class for years and she does the same thing, every year. She pairs us with the person next to us. I knew that no one would sit with you, Kurt. I knew how many students were in that class. I knew that the only empty seat would be next to you, so I hid out in the toilets until everyone was in class, then I went and found that I was right. I was going to get paired with you and I don't know what I hoped to gain from that, but I knew I just—I had to do it, you know?"

"You—you planned that?" Kurt exclaimed and Blaine nodded.

"Yeah, I just—I wanted to be near you," he said. "Then we met up and you seemed to figure me out without even knowing me and then I found myself thinking about you all the time. Like, every second of the day. I would go to sleep thinking about you at night. I'd wake up in the morning and all I would see was those blue eyes. Everything was you. I was—I was _obsessed, _and that's where the fascination comes in. Enthusiasm because every time I saw you, there was something within me that just felt—I don't know—_excited, _because you were so new and amazing and intriguing to me and I just wanted to know everything about you. Orange roses are fascination, enthusiasm and desire. I think desire pretty much speaks for itself. I wanted you. I tried to fight it, but it wouldn't go away. Like the song said, _these feelings won't go away _and yeah, they were knocking me sideways, they still are. I gave in that night after Puck's party. I did exactly what I wanted to you and you weren't pushing me away and that was crazy to me, that after everything, you would still let me touch you.

"I know that I'm only supposed to take the one, true meaning into account when I look at this rose, but just listen to me," Blaine smiled a bit. "A single rose of any colour, symbolises gratitude and God, am I grateful to you, for you, too. You helped me embrace who I really am and you took the time to give a damn about me, something no one else had ever done. And you're the best thing that's ever happened to me, so yeah, I'm grateful for you.

"There are red tips—they look orange, but they're red," Blaine showed him. "Red roses mean courage, beauty, love, passion and 'I love you'," he smiled. "Who's more courageous than you are, Kurt? No one. Beauty? Who's more beautiful than you are? Also no one. Love and passion? Speaks for themselves, really. And 'I love you'? Well, I love you, don't I? I love you and I want you to know that I do. I love you.

"And finally, a yellow rose symbolises jealousy, promise of a new beginning, 'I care' and 'remember me'," Blaine's golden eyes met Kurt's glistening blue ones. "Jealousy because every time someone looks at you—and they do a lot—I get jealous. I know you don't notice, but they do, everyone stares at you. You have this way of moving that just draws attention—not to mention those sinfully tight pants," Blaine smirked. "I just want to wrap you up in my arms and let everyone know you're mone—which, you're not any more, but it's just what I've always wanted to do. Promise of a new beginning, because, well, look at the road ahead of you. You've got so much going for you. You're going to make it all the way to the top, Kurt," Blaine smiled and Kurt saw the gleam in his eyes. "'I care', because I do. I care. I love you and I care about you and if I had to risk everything else in the whole world just to keep you safe, I'd do it in a heart beat.

"Finally, 'remember me'. I know you're going out to New York and that you're going to be surrounded by all these amazingly artsy, talented guys who are—let's face it—gonna want you really badly, because you're pretty perfect. I know that you'll find someone and yes, that hurts, but I've accepted that that's how it has to be. I'm going to be a distant memory to you, but I just—I want you to remember me, even if it's only distantly," Blaine told him. "I want you to look back in like, ten years and remember that guy who took your virginity, then freaked out and made you cry and on your birthday, no less. I kind of want you to look back and think how you did love me and i loved you, but that you're better off where you are, that you took the right road, because I made you cry and I hurt you. I don't want you to ever regret what you're doing. I still want you to remember me, though. I want you to remember something, even if it's bad. I don't want to be forgotten in your life, Kurt."

Kurt chuckled, but his voice broke. "I could ever forget you, you idiot," he told him, reaching across and taking his hand. "I love you more than anything, there's no forgetting you, not when you make me feel like you do."

Blaine grinned, then. "Okay," he nodded. "Good. So, that's the meaning behind this," Blaine told him, handing him the flower again. "I want you to keep the bracelet, Kurt. I want you to know that I could be a decent person every once in a while. I just—please keep it. You don't even have to wear it."

Kurt shook his head and scrambled to root in his pocket, to retrieve the bracelet. He took it out and handed it to Blaine, who was watching him with questioning eyes. Kurt held out his wrist and after a couple of seconds of silence, Blaine clasped the bracelet around his wrist.

"So, um, about prom," Blaine said, quickly. "I know that for the most part, it seems like all I want to do is take your clothes off and I'm not going to lie, I love taking your clothes off, but that's not what it was about for me. I love you, Kurt and maybe you're sick of hearing me tell you that, but I don't know another way to express how I feel about you. Saying that I love you doesn't feel enough, but I don't know how else to do it. So, yeah, sometimes I got a little carried away and I slipped my hands down your pants when I wasn't supposed to, but above all, this was about us falling in love, being in love, staying in love, wanting to love each other, but not being able to. Every second spent with you made me ecstatically happy. You see me like no one else does and sometimes, I think I see you like no one else sees you, too. Soon, we're going to be too far away from one another and phone calls and emails and letters will get lost among the rush of life and then when we finally do see each other, it'll be awkward nods and how've you beens and you look goods, when all I'll ever want to do is kiss you again.

"Which is why I want you to come to prom with me," Blaine nodded. "I want to have another night with you, a night that means something big. I want this final night with you and that doesn't mean you have to sleep with me, or kiss me, or even hold my hand. It just means you come with me and we have a good time together," Blaine smiled. "The other reason I want you to come is that I know you won't go if someone doesn't take you. I know you won't go alone. And you deserve to go to your senior prom, Kurt. I mean, I'm not going to go if you say no, but I think we should do it. I think we should do it for us. So, before you say no, think about all that. Think about it and get back to me."

Kurt was laughing then and Blaine was staring at him with one eye brow raised.

"I was going to say yes in the first place," Kurt told him.

"You..." Blaine trialed off. "You let me go through all that and you were going to say yes?"

Kurt nodded and reached across for Blaine's hand. "Sorry," he smiled. "But that was a pretty convincing speech and thank you. I didn't know all of that. I love you."

"So, you'll come?"

"Yeah, I'll come," Kurt smiled. "But you need to promise me you'll stay somewhere tonight. I know you won't come back to my house, but God knows you should, but at least go somewhere, Blaine, away from the cold."

"Okay, sure," Blaine nodded, eagerly. "Yes, I'll go somewhere, I promise. Just.. You know this doesn't mean we're back together, just that I want another day with you, one last proper day. I mean, we'll have days after this, but this is big and I wouldn't want to spend it with anyone else."

"I understand," Kurt told him. "I don't want to leave you, Blaine," Kurt sighed and lay back, not caring about the grass stains that were probably going to be all over his white pants. "I try to think of all these ways around it, taking you with me, not going, begging them to take you, too, but every pro has two cons."

"I know," Blaine said, laying down next to him. "I've thought about it, too. I just feel like it all seems so surreal, you know? Like I could never do it, never leave here, even though that's all I've ever wanted. I feel like I have so many things I need to fix first before I can even think about going anywhere else. And you, you've got to go. I refuse to watch you stay here because of me and if you do that, I'll leave you anyway."

Kurt chuckled. "I'm going," he assured him.

"I know," Blaine said, sadly.

They stayed silent then, just listening to the soft hum of the breeze, then Kurt leaned up and flipped himself on to his stomach, then propped himself up on his elbows so that he could see Blaine properly.

"Hey," he said, looking into those big, bright eyes. "I know you think you love me more than I love you, because I haven't really made it very vocal and I don't show it nearly as much as I should," he began. "But trust me, I love you every bit as much as you love me."

Blaine reached up and tugged Kurt down until he was half on top of him. "I know that," he apprised him. "It's funny, because my whole life literally fell down around me, yet the only thing that really irks me is the entire situation between us. You're the thing that's on my mind all the time. Screw being homeless, family-less, prospect-less, everything else-less. All I give a damn about it how I'm probably never going to see you again once you leave and that hurts more than any of the rest."

Kurt leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his lips. "Was I not supposed to do that?"

"No," Blaine said, lips upturning.

"Should I do it again?"

"Definitely," Blaine smiled as Kurt's lips came down to meet his again.

"So, prom," Kurt said, once they'd broken apart.

"Yeah," Blaine smiled. "Prom."

"You'd better show me a good time," Kurt teased.

"Kurt Hummel," Blaine smirked, his cool fingers sliding up the back of Kurt's shirt, slowly. "Don't I _always _show you a good time?"

Kurt shivered and swallowed hard as Blaine's hands came down on his warm skin and his lips reached up and found his neck. Kurt felt him sucking his skin into his mouth and he gasped a little.

"_Blaine._"

"I'm losing you soon, but until then," Blaine breathed. "I want people to know you're mine, even if you're technically not mine at the moment."

Kurt blinked a couple of times, then reached down and pulled Blaine's head gently upwards, until his teeth were grazing Kurt's neck. Blaine made a sound that sounded as if he was questioning Kurt.

Kurt gave him a small shrug and pressed his neck down to Blaine's swelled lips, then he whispered in Blaine's ear.

"_I'm always yours_."

* * *

><p><em><em>**The flower meanings came from here: www(.)rkdn(.)org/roses/colors(.)asp**

**I don't think I'll be able to update until Friday, because my sister is dancing the All Ireland Championships on Thursday and I won't be home all day tomorrow because we have to get things ready, which is irrelevant to all of you, but I'm just telling you where I am lol. So, most probably Friday at the absolute latest. I'm behind on replying to reviews again, but I'll get round to it. I honestly think there are about four more chapters to go lol so that's not too bad. Okay, let me know! :) x**


	31. Chapter 31

**(I own nothing) So many apologies for the late update. I had most of this done and my laptop deleted it yesterday and it was too late to restart and finish at that stage. This chapter is sort of just the lead up to the prom. It sort of just ties up a few loose ends and stuff, but it is still relevant because we still get broken Blaine and broken Kurt. Well, I think so, anyway. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 31:<strong>

"Are you sure it's a good idea?" Mercedes asked, sounding sceptical.

Kurt sighed. "Mercedes," he said. "I love him and he loves me. Of course, I'm sure."

"Well, okay," Mercedes said. "You still have time to turn him down if you change your mind."

"It's _prom_, not a wedding," Kurt shook his head and pressed the phone to his other ear. "Anyway, he's been turned down by everyone lately; His mom, his dad, _life._ I'm not going to turn him down, too. Besides, _I_ _want to go. _Why is it a bad thing that I want to go to prom with the guy I love? Blaine and I don't have forever, we're going to make the most of what little time we do have."

Mercedes was silent for a few seconds, then she sighed. "You're right," she told him. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"Not possible," Kurt assured her, because it was true. He was hurting enough already. Another night with Blaine wasn't going to make it any worse than it already was.

* * *

><p>"'Morning, Blaine!" Carole Hudson said, cheerily, when Blaine walked into the kitchen before school. "I hope you slept okay."<p>

Blaine gave Carole a broad smile. Carole had been so welcoming when Finn had convinced Blaine to come and stay over at his house for a while. He could see why Kurt's dad would like her and she looked nothing like Finn in a dress, which was comforting.

"I slept really well, actually," he told Carole. "Thanks again for letting me stay here."

Blaine had slept better than he had slept in a long time. The last time he had slept so well was when he had stayed at Kurt's. Since then, he had been staying at various members of the glee club's houses, which he was grateful for, but he hadn't really gotten a good night's sleep at any of them.

"No problem," Carole grinned. "Have a seat. What would you like to eat? Or—Yes, I'll just put some different things on the table and you can take whatever you want. That's what I do with Finn. He eats like a horse," she said with a chuckle, as she turned away and opened a cupboard.

Blaine sat down and Finn walked into the room, yawning. "G'mornin'," he said and came and sat down next to Blaine. He looked up at him, as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "I forgot you were here—not that it's bad that you're here! I just—forgot, is all."

"I get it, Finn," Blaine said, smiling a little.

Carole came back to the table, an ear-to-ear grin spread across her face. She placed a plate piled with pancakes on the centre of the table, then went away and came back with plates, knives, forks and spoons. She walked back into the kitchen once more and came back with bowls and cereal.

"Is there anything else you'd like?" she asked, hands on her hips. "Anything at all?"

It was funny how everyone else's parents could be supportive of Blaine and his right to love whoever the hell he wanted, when his own didn't.

* * *

><p>"I'm sick of you gays," Puck told Kurt when he stopped at Kurt's locker. "Why are there so many of you?"<p>

Kurt rolled his eyes and then turned around to face Puck, Karofsky and Azimio. "You realise your cousin is gay, don't you, Puckerman?" Kurt pointed out. "I mean, you seem perfectly fine with him being gay, yet everyone else seems to offend you."

Puck stared at Kurt, open-mouthed for a few moments, Karofsky looked uncomfortable and Azimio just looked angry, as usual.

"Th-that's different!" Puck argued. "I've known Kenny forever!"

"You've known Blaine forever." Puck was silenced again, then after a few seconds, he began stammering, trying to make his argument convincing, but Kurt only sighed and shook his head. "You can't have one rule for one and a separate rule for another, it doesn't work like that. If you want to continue to call me names and toss me in dumpsters, okay, cool, that's great, but Blaine was your _friend_. You've been friends for _years. _Don't you feel anything?"

"But he used to like girls and now he likes dick—"

"I've always liked dick, Puckerman."

Kurt turned around and saw Blaine walking towards him, a small smile on his face. Blaine tore his eyes off Puck and looked at Kurt. "Hey," he said, happily. "You look amazing, as always. Are those new jeans? Cute." Kurt gaped at him as he turned back to Puck again. "What were we talking about again?"

When Puck didn't respond, Blaine looked back at Kurt, eyes urging him to speak. "Um," Kurt began. "You liking dick, I believe."

Blaine smiled with amusement at Kurt's slight blush, then looked back at Puck. "The thing is, Noah," Blaine started. "I've always been gay, I just wasn't vocal about it and because you didn't know, you were fine with me as a person. What you need to sit back and think about is the fact that I'm still the exact same person now as I was before I came out. Not that I would actually want to be your friend again. I just thought I would point that out."

Kurt nodded in agreement. He felt proud of Blaine for being able to stand up and say that. He thought about how he had been at the beginning, how he had been far too afraid to even admit everything to himself, let alone the rest of the world, how he had had these seemingly unbreakable walls built up around himself and wouldn't allow anyone get too close in case they tried to break them down. Now, he was brave, proud, sure about who he was.

Right when Kurt was about to leave him.

"Let's get to class," Blaine said, taking Kurt's elbow in his hand and steering him away from Puck, Azimio and Karofsky. "I know those jeans aren't new, by the way," Blaine told him once they were down the hall and around the corner. "Don't think I don't notice."

Kurt smiled. "Are you saying I'm an outfit repeater, Blaine Anderson?"

"Hey, I'm not _that _brave!"

* * *

><p>Kurt stopped still outside the girl's changing room. Soft sobs filled the air and he strained to listen, to make sure he had actually heard something. He stood stuck to the spot for another couple of heart beats, then pushed the door open, carefully and walked inside. The changing room was empty, but the sobs grew louder as he advance down the narrow aisles. He stopped at the end of the aisle when he saw Quinn Fabray, curled into the corner of a bench, her face buried in her hands, her blonde hair untidy and coming loose from its band.<p>

"Quinn?" he said.

Quinn looked up and shot him an angry look when she realised who he was. "Go away, Hummel."

"What's wrong?" Kurt sat down, ignoring her demands for him to leave.

"Everything!" she exploded. "I got kicked off the cheerios, kicked out of my house, kicked out of my post at the top of the—the foodchain, I turned my boyfriend gay and I'm pregnant with Noah Puckerman's baby! The better and simpler question here is what is right? I could answer that much faster, because _nothing is right_!"

Kurt frowned, his body surging with pity for her. She was awful most of the time, but no one deserved what she was going through. "Quinn," Kurt said. "You didn't turn Blaine gay. He's always been gay." He thought it was ironic that that had been pointed out twice today. "I know that's no huge consolation, because you have bigger worries."

"Oh, you think?" she snapped.

Kurt sighed, tiredly. "Would you consider coming back to glee club?" he found himself asking. "No one there will judge you, Quinn. If you're nice to us, we'll be nice to you. You've got a lot going on, you could do with some support."

She looked up at Kurt, her thin eye brows knitting. Her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed and her cheeks were tear stained. "You think singing and dancing is going to help me?"

"Maybe not," Kurt uttered. "But I think having people around you who aren't going to point and stare will help you. Consider it?"

She was silent for a long time, only small sniffles escaping her lips. "They hate me," she said, finally.

"Only because you hate them."

"I don't even know them."

"And they don't know you," Kurt pointed out. "Look, I now you only joined in the first place to keep an eye on Blaine, but come back for you, Quinn. You can actually sing, too, so that's bonus. Nationals is soon and we could do with more singers. What do you say?"

"Why are you being nice to me?"

"Because I know what it's like to feel like no one cares, like you have no one to turn to and what it's like to feel as if you've let a parent down. I know what it's like to be judged for who you are and the mistakes you've made and I know what it's like to lose something you just can't afford to lose."

"Did I make you feel like that?" she asked, timidly.

"No, your insults sucked," Kurt said, with a smile and much to his surprise, Quinn smiled back.

* * *

><p>"She's back in glee?" Blaine muttered next to Kurt, when Quinn walked through the choir room door, her eyes cautious and unsure.<p>

"I may have convinced her to come back," Kurt whispered.

"What?" Blaine said, incredulously. "_Why?_"

Kurt shrugged. "She needs people around her. Sometimes, we all do, no matter how often we try to deny it."

* * *

><p>Mr Schuester quietened the glee club down after Rachel and Santana were done having a heated discussion about solos for Nationals. Kurt sighed, tiredly. While Rachel was irrefutably talented, others deserved a solo, too. Her arguments for why she should be the only soloist were becoming tedious and he wasn't nearly skilled enough at shutting her voice out as he would have liked.<p>

"Blaine," Mr Schue said, then. "You wanted to say something?"

Kurt gave Blaine a quizzical stare, which he ignored, as he climbed to his feet and went towards the front of the choir room. He stood by the piano and everyone watched him in silence. Kurt had no idea what this could possibly be about.

"I never really got a chance to thank you all, for everything," he began. "Especially for what you've done for me in the past few weeks. I've had nowhere to go." He stopped, eyes lingering on Kurt, then went on. "Well, not entirely true, but I had nowhere to go that didn't make things harder than they already were. You've all shown me nothing but kindness and that's amazing to me. Lately, it's been hard. All I've gotten has been abuse and rejection and—a bunch of other negative things, but not here. You've all been so supportive and—well. The only real friends I've got—the only _family _I've got. I know I've been horrible to each and every one of you before and I'm truly sorry, even though that doesn't begin to make up for every awful thing I've done. You accepted me, even after that and that means the world to me, so just—thank you."

Kurt found himself smiling, his head tilted, studying Blaine as he walked awkwardly back to his seat.

"Is he okay?" Mercedes whispered in Kurt's ear.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, he's—he's fine, Kurt assured her, but he just wasn't sure how true that was.

"Thanks, Blaine," Mr Schuester grinned. "We're lucky to have you."

Blaine gave a small nod and dropped his eyes to his lap. Kurt reached across and gave Blaine's shaking hand a squeeze. Blaine raised his copper eyes to Kurt's bright blue ones. Kurt only smiled harder, which resulted in Blaine smiling back. Kurt didn't let his hand go until it was time to go home.

* * *

><p>"Is everything okay?" Kurt asked Blaine over the phone later that day.<p>

"Yeah," Blaine said. "I mean, other than the very obvious, I'm okay."

"Just okay."

"Just okay," Blaine clarified, which made Kurt frown slightly.

"Anything I can do?" Kurt asked.

"You have done more than enough for me," Blaine said and Kurt could hear him smiling sadly on the other end. "I'll be okay. You just concentrate on getting yourself ready for when you leave and for prom and Nationals, obviously. I'll concentrate on getting myself ready for the same things. Trust me, I'll be okay."

Kurt knew he was just trying to make him feel better, but it wasn't working. He smiled anyway. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know," Blaine told him. "I love you, too."

"Even though I'm leaving you when you need me most?"

"Especially for that," Blaine said.

"I don't get it," Kurt furrowed his eyebrows.

"Maybe not right now," Blaine told him. "But you will."

* * *

><p>"Why is he picking you up?" Burt asked. "I mean, I get it when the guy picks the girl up, but what happens when it's two guys? Does that make you the girl? because I don't like that, if he's making you out to be the girl."<p>

"Dad," Kurt said, quickly. "It's not like that. He's picking me up because he's the one with the high bank balance."

"Oh."

Kurt went back to styling his hair in the mirror. He lifted his hairspray can and held his finger down, before spraying his entire head. His dad coughed a little from the other side of the room.

"You're going to die in your sleep if you keep spraying that stuff."

"I've been using it for years," Kurt smiled. "Yet here I stand, still breathing."

"It'll fry your brain," Burt told him, but he was smiling. His smiled faded then. "Are you sure about what you're wearing?"

Kurt sighed. His dad had asked him that at least twelve times already that day. He had made his own outfit, complete with a kilt. He loved it, he was proud of it, but his dad was relentless. Kurt knew he was just worried about how others would react, but he didn't care. He was out of there soon and he wanted to make an impression, that's what fashion was all about, after all.

"Everything will be fine, dad," Kurt assured him. "Trust me."

"I do," Burt informed him. "It's just—not everyone is nice, Kurt."

"You think I don't know that?" he asked. "I do remember all those times I ended up in hospital, believe it or not." He stopped then, because he had snapped for no real reason. "Sorry," he muttered. "I just—it's going to be okay. I know you're worried but it will. Blaine and I have got this. We can handle ourselves."

"Okay," Burt said, sounding not at all convinced. "I'll go back upstairs. I'll shout down when Blaine gets here."

Kurt nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Burt lingered there for another moment. "You look good, kid," he said. "I—have a good time, okay?"

Kurt turned to face his dad and smiled a broad, full-toothed smile. "I will."

* * *

><p>Blaine rapped on the front door of Kurt's house and waited. For some reason, his heart was beating wildly in his chest. It shouldn't have been. He had been at Kurt's house several times and he had met Burt just as many times. He shouldn't have been nervous at all.<p>

It felt like a life time before the door opened and Burt stood there, holding his cap in his hands. "Oh, hey, Blaine," he said and stood back to let Blaine in. Blaine walked inside and Burt shut the door. "Kurt's downstairs, still getting ready, if you wanna go on down."

"Thanks," Blaine grinned, then headed for the stairs to Kurt's room. He walked slowly down the steps, still inexplicably nervous.

When he reached the bottom, he stopped in the doorway. Kurt was studying himself in the mirror, his nose scrunching up a bit as he tweaked his hair. Blaine's eyes roved over him and stopped when he realised what he was wearing.

"Is that—you're wearing.."

Kurt shot around, quickly. "How long have you been standing there?"

Blaine walked inside, eyes still locked on Kurt's lower half. "You're wearing a.."

"Kilt, Blaine," Kurt clarified. "Not a skirt, or a dress, or whatever you were going to say. It's a _kilt._"

Blaine gave a slow nod. "I know," he told him. "I just meant that—you look good. Better than good. Amazing. Better than amazing." He paused. "What's better than amazing?"

"Um," Kurt thought for a moment. "I don't know. What's better than amazing?"

"You," Blaine joked. "But honestly, you look gorgeous."

Kurt blushed a little and Blaine fought the urge to roll his eyes, because it never ceased to amaze him how Kurt had no idea how perfect he was.

"So do you," Kurt told him, coming closer. Blaine swallowed. "Is this a bad idea?" Kurt asked.

"Definitely," Blaine said, eyes falling down to Kurt's legs. "Definitely a bad idea."

"Why?"

"Because we're supposed to be broken up," Blaine informed him. "Yet all I can think about is how badly I want to kiss you..." he trailed off and his voice dropped. "Among other things.."

"I wouldn't stop you," Kurt said, coming closer still. "If you kissed me." He was within touching distance now. "Among other things.." he added, with a small smirk.

"This suit is rented," Blaine told him. "I wouldn't want to have to pay for any damage done to the pants."

"Guess I'll have to resist the urge to tear them off, then," Kurt chuckled. "Are we going to go, or are you going to stay here all day ogling me?"

"Is that an option?"

"You wore the red tipped yellow rose," Kurt beamed, eyes locked on the rose pinned to Blaine's lapel.

"Of course," Blaine smiled "You did, too."

"Obviously. Come on," Kurt smiled and slipped his hand in Blaine's. Blaine's skin danced at his touch. "Let's go show you off."

"This is a bad idea," Blaine uttered as he followed Kurt up the stairs. He slowed down, wondering what Kurt had on under that kilt.

"Only if you keep doing that," Kurt said.

"Can you blame me?"

"Yes," Kurt nodded. "It's entirely your fault," he smiled.

They had reached the top of the stairs now. "I'm not the one that wore an outfit that made my butt look like the hottest thing since—ever."

Kurt turned and looked at him, his ice blue gaze running slowly over him, making him shiver all over. He raised his blue eyes to his and gave him a slow smile.

"I beg to differ."

* * *

><p><strong>Next update will probably be Monday. I'm thinking 3-4 chapters after this. I know I said four before, but four seems about right. Again, check out the art that people have done here: likechildreninafairytale(.)tumblr(.)comtagged/sideways **

**:D**


	32. Chapter 32

**(I own nothing) I'm sorry about the delay, my internet keeps knocking off for hours at a time and it's frustrating and yeah. The song in this is here: youtube(.)com/watch/?v=KN-uo02mxoQ Again, thank you to Rebecca (m-arvel on tumblr) for providing me with this song. I let reviews get on top of my, by the way, but I'll reply to everything as quickly as I can, I promise. This chapter is sort of fluffy, but has angst, too, obviously. I tried to do the whole fluff thing after the painful glee episode tonight, but I might ave failed and allowed my crying impact what I was writing. **

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32:<strong>

"Would you be horribly offended if I got slightly intoxicated tonight?"

Kurt's piercing blue eyes were on him in a flash, one eyebrow cocked, his mouth set in a thin line. "Define 'slightly intoxicated'," Kurt challenged.

Blaine sat back against the cool leather of the rented limo and shrugged. "Drunk enough that it will make me forget the horrible tragedy that is my life," he began. "Yet sober enough that I will still be capable of telling you how good you look."

"Flattery will get you—um, every where," Kurt smiled a bit. "But you can't hide behind the alcohol forever, you know."

Blaine sighed. "'Guess I can't," he said. "My living arrangements make it very tempting, however."

"Where are you staying now?"

"Hotel."

Kurt looked at him, quizzically. "Really?"

"Really," Blaine clarified. "And not just any hotel, a _five star hotel. _I am going to continue to use my father's money until it runs out, at which point I will go to him and tell him it has run out and he will be forced to give me more, because I have the power to tell the whole high class scene that Anderson has a gay son. I guess being a disgrace to your family has its perks."

Blaine felt Kurt's fingers entwining with his own and he took comfort in the small gesture. "Have you spoken to either of them yet?" Kurt enquired. "Your parents, I mean?"

"No," Blaine told him. "But let's not talk about that, okay?"

"Whatever you want," Kurt nodded. "I'm totally cool with you drinking, by the way. Just as long as I don't have to carry you back to your five star hotel."

"I," Blaine smirked. "Would not be opposed to that."

* * *

><p>Kurt could feel the burning glares as he walked through the doors of the school assembly hall. He was beginning to regret having worn the kilt, because while he was proud of it, of himself and who he was, he still didn't like the feeling that the open mouths and the judgmental stares gave him.<p>

Puck was standing a little away from the door and when he saw Kurt's outfit, his eyes widened and his mouth opened as if he was about to speak, but he closed it again, lost for words.

"Quit ogling my date, Puckerman," Blaine said, walking up next to Kurt.

"I wasn't—"

"You were staring," Blaine pointed out.

"Only because he—well. He looks like—I mean—"

"He can't help it that he's pretty," Blaine gave Puck a wink, then steered Kurt away from him.

"I could have handled that," Kurt told him, once they were a little further away. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"I am well aware of that," Blaine smiled. "But that was an opportunity I could not miss. You're more than pretty, by the way."

"And there you go with the flattery again," Kurt chuckled.

"I mean it, though," Blaine said and he looked as if he meant it. The strobe lights were reflected in his bright, golden eyes and his smile reached them, making Kurt's heart skip a beat. "I look at you and I think that the world must be playing a joke on me, because I had you and lost you and I'm losing you for good and God knows that no one else could ever come close. It's like having an ocean and then having that taken away from you and it being replaced with a puddle. It could never come close and it's like some sort of joke, like the world is laughing at you." Kurt's smile dissipated as Blaine continued to speak. "It's as if the world is rolling on the ground in hysterics, because it's taking away my ocean and everything after that will be less than a puddle. I wish I could just climb closer to you and let you drown me, because I would rather drown in an ocean than slip into a puddle and come up wet and miserable. At least when you drown it's just over. Besides, don't they say you hear music when you drown?"

* * *

><p>"Dude, I like your—ah, skirt thing," Finn told Kurt, looking confused.<p>

Kurt thought about correcting him, but decided against it, because that would be a long, boring conversation for both of them. "Thanks, Finn. You look good."

"Thanks, man!" Finn grinned, lopsidedly. "Is Blaine here?"

"Um, yeah, he went to get some punch."

"But it's spiked," Finn said.

"Exactly," Kurt nodded. Finn looked confused for a split second, then shrugged and walked on. Kurt saw Mercedes and Rachel sitting down, so he went to talk to them.

"Kurt, is that a kilt?" Rachel smiled, excitedly, when Kurt reached the table. "That's amazing!"

* * *

><p>"I'm going to go talk to her."<p>

Blaine tugged him back and he turned and looked at him with accusing eyes. "Why?" Blaine asked.

Kurt rolled his blue eyes. "She looks miserable."

"Stop being such a good person," Blaine said, but he was smiling. "Kidding. Go ahead. Go forth, St. Kurt and save the world!"

"How much of that punch have you had?" Kurt asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Obviously not enough," Blaine frowned. "Don't leave me alone for too long."

Kurt's smile faded, because soon, he would be leaving Blaine alone, maybe forever.

* * *

><p>"Quinn."<p>

Dark green eyes lifted from the dark floor and met his. "Oh," she said. "You."

Kurt ignored her non-welcoming manner and went closer to stand next to her. "Wanna come sit down? Everyone from glee is sitting at a table over there."

"I don't think so."

Kurt nodded, slowly and studied her. Her bump was visible now, she hadn't even tried to hide it. Her dress was a dusty pink, made of chiffon. The material was rucked at the waist and other than that, it was very simple. It was a huge improvement on the Valentine's dress, that was for sure.

"I like this look," Kurt told her.

"Cut the crap, Hummel," Quinn said, tiredly. "I look like an obese flamingo."

Kurt spluttered at that. "Wha—Quinn, you're not that bad. It's a baby, not a hippopotamous. You look good, I swear. I wouldn't lie about something like that."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "You gays and your fashion," she muttered.

"Come on, come sit with us," Kurt urged. "You don't have to be alone."

Quinn said nothing, only stared off into the crowds of dancing students for a few moments, then she spoke, "Are we bonding because we've both had sex with Blaine?"

Kurt scoffed. "Wow," he said. "This conversation just got exceptionally awkward for both of us."

* * *

><p>"You wearing anything under that skirt, Hummel?"<p>

"You got anything inside that head of yours other than hot air, Kenneth?"

Kenny continued to smile, his dark as night eyes running slowly up and down Kurt's body, making him feel uncomfortable. "You here with Anderson?"

Kurt nodded. "Here with Karofsky?"

Kenny grimaced then. "Not on your life," he informed him. "I'm flyin' solo tonight, Hummel. Unless of course, you and that skirt of yours want to join me?"

"Not on _your _life, Kenneth."

* * *

><p>"Everything okay?" Blaine asked, once Kurt had left Kenny and walked back to the table. He sank down into the seat next to Blaine and nodded.<p>

"Everything is fine," Kurt assured him, then frowned at the plastic cup in Blaine's hand. "You're still drinking that crap?"

Blaine shrugged and placed the half full—or was it half empty?—cup down on the table. "Not really," he muttered. "It tastes like glue."

"It both disturbs and amuses me that you know what glue tastes like," Kurt said, a small smile playing on the corners of his lips. Kurt reached across and laid a hand over Blaine's.

Blaine ignored the people who seemed to stare at them because of this small contact and instead, he kept his eyes on the crowded dance floor. He watched Mike and Tina, Mercedes and Sam, and Rory and Sugar Motta dancing together. He frowned and looked away, only to see Finn and Rachel kissing at the next table. Blaine rolled his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked.

He looked up. "Don't you think it's unfair that they can do that and nobody bats an eyelid?" he asked, gesturing at Finn and Rachel, who were still playing tonsil hockey. "And not just them, either. _Everyone. _Yet, we get that." He pointed at two girls staring at them and whispering to each other like it was the biggest gossip since Quinn Fabray got pregnant. "And all we're doing is holding hands."

"Well, yeah," Kurt shrugged, slightly. "It's not fair and the world sucks, but that's just how it is."

Blaine shook his head. "But it shouldn't be," he said. "Know what?"

"What?"

"We should dance."

"Um, what?" Kurt asked, eyes wide. "No, Blaine, that's—Blaine, we don't need to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves, that's—"

Blaine sat up and shifted his body in the chair, so that he was facing Kurt. "What happened to the Kurt Hummel that walked down the hallways wearing sequins and boots, with his head held high and his confidence higher? What happened to the Kurt Hummel that's proud of who he is and what he does?" Blaine moved forward, Kurt's blue eyes watching him carefully. "I get that you're worried about me, okay? I know that all this 'not attracting attention' is because of me, but just stop, okay? I'm tired of hiding, tired of pretending and I'm really tired of acting like the fact that we like boys—_that we like each other_—means there's something wrong with us. _There isn't. _So, you can sit here looking pretty, with those baby blues downcast, or you can stand up and dance with me and show them that _we don't care_ what they think. What's it going to be?"

Kurt tilted his head sideways, then smiled. "Admit it, you just want to show people you've got the best dressed date at the prom," Kurt teased.

"Of course," Blaine smiled, then held out a hand to Kurt. "Dance with me?"

"I'm going to show you up, you know," Kurt smiled, taking Blaine's hand and standing up. "I can shake my hips like it's nobody's business."

"Oh, I've seen your hips in action, trust me," Blaine chuckled and they walked across the floor.

It was the most ridiculous thing, what happened then. It was like in movies, when the couple graced the floor, the couple that were just friends, who had decided to dance together, and then a slow song came over the speakers and they were forced to continue their way on to the floor anyway, regardless of how awkward it made things. Blaine felt Kurt go rigid next to him, so he gave his hand a small squeeze.

"'Doesn't change a thing," Blaine told him. He felt Kurt squeeze back, then and he smiled and stopped on the dance floor. He turned to face Kurt and gave him the smallest of nods.

_Okay?_

Kurt gave a slight inclination of his head in response.

_Okay._

Blaine took a step forward and closed the space between them.

"I've never done this before," Kurt uttered.

"Never mind," Blaine said, pulling him closer, his arms curling around his waist. "I have a feeling you'll be amazing."

The soft music flitted through the humid air and Blaine's heart beat sped up. He could feel Kurt's breath warm against his ear and he felt nervous, not because of the watchful eyes of the other students, but because Kurt just felt so right, slotted into his arms, swaying there. His heart was hammering in his chest and he was sure Kurt could feel it, too. Blaine shifted his body a little and his breath came out in stutters.

"What's wrong?" Kurt whispered, sending electric shocks all through his body.

"Nothing," Blaine told him and it was the truth. At that moment, nothing was wrong, nothing in Blaine's whole, wide world was wrong at all.

"You're shaking," Kurt uttered.

Oh. He was shaking? He _was _shaking. He cleared his throat a bit and fastened his arms tighter around Kurt's waist.

"I'm fine, I promise," he told him. "You just—you make me nervous."

Kurt leaned back a bit, his blue eyes finding Blaine's golden-brown ones. "Nervous?" he asked, curiously. "I never made you nervous before."

"You've been making me nervous since the first moment I set eyes on you," Blaine told him, quietly. "You're perfect."

Kurt's eyes lit up then, because he smiled and crushed his body back to Blaine's. "I love you," Kurt whispered, so quietly that Blaine wasn't sure he had actually said anything.

"And I love you," Blaine told him and Kurt came closer, still, even though Blaine didn't think that was possible.

Kurt's arms were draped around his neck and Blaine's head was on Kurt's shoulder and he wished they could just stay like that forever, lost in the slow, steady rhythm of the music and the fast, uneven beats of their hearts. Kurt smelled like soap and something sweet, something Blaine couldn't place. He breathed in his scent and wondered at what point he would forget what Kurt smelled like. He thought about the fact that in the future, someone else would be breathing in that scent, someone else would slow dance with him, someone else would hold him in their arms and whisper in his ear and he would love them and they would love him.

They would never love him as much as Blaine loved him, of that he was more than sure.

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked.

"I don't know how to let you go," Blaine said, before he could stop himself. That was a selfish thing to say and it would make Kurt feel bad about leaving, but he couldn't control how he felt.

"You don't have to," Kurt said. "At least, not yet. The song is only just kicking off."

And that was when the slow, wispy music slowed and the song begun and it was slow, too and Kurt tightened his grip on him and Blaine was glad that he did, because he felt as if he might crumple to the round and break into a million separate glass particles and he didn't want that, he just wanted to hold on to Kurt for as long as was humanly possible.

_Oh, Florida, please be still tonight,  
>Don't disturb this love of mine,<br>Look how she's so serene,  
>You've gotta help me out.<em>

He closed his eyes and breathed Kurt in again and he was caught between wanting to laugh until his ribs hurt, because of how happy he was an wanting to cry his eyes out, because everything was so beautiful and this feeling would soon be a distant memory, lost in the past, only slivers of it left imprinted on the mind for the rest of their lives.

_And count the stars to form the lines,  
>And find the words, we'll sing in time,<br>I want to keep her dreaming,  
>It's my one wish, I won't forget this.<em>

He felt as if his breathing was constricted, his throat dry, his chest feeling tight. He opened his mouth, his lips dry and sticking to one another, and took a long, deep breath, trying to get some air into his lungs, but all it did was help a hidden sob come to surface, slipping from his mouth like an animal escaping from the zoo; Unwanted and dangerous.

_I'm outdated, overrated,  
>Morning seems so far away.<em>

He wondered what his life would have been like if Kurt hadn't walked into McKinley High that day, wondered if he would still be hiding behind that mask, still pretending, still unaware of who he truly was. He owed everything to the boy in his arms, this boy that he wanted to keep with him forever, but couldn't, because life was picking him up and lifting him far away from him. For now, they just had to take every moment as it came.

_So I'll sing a melody,  
>And hope to God she's listening,<br>Sleeping softly while I sing,  
>And I'll be your memories,<br>Your lullaby for all the times,  
>Hoping that my voice could get it right.<em>

Blaine pulled him closer, as close as he could and tried to whisper in his ear that he loved him, but all that came was an uneven breath. Kurt gave a small nod and Blaine knew that Kurt knew what he had been trying to say. He felt Kurt's arms pulling tighter and he wanted this forever, needed it, needed to have him with him until there was nothing left in the world, but the two of them, because nothing else really mattered to him, all of the other things he was dealing with were minor in comparison to what he had to let go. He didn't want it to be a memory, he wanted it to be forever.

_If luck is on my side tonight,  
>My clumsy tongue will make it right,<br>And wrists that touch,  
>It isn't much, but it's enough.<em>

_To form imaginary lines,  
>Forget your scars, we'll forget mine,<br>The hours change so fast,  
>Oh, God, please make this last.<em>

The chorus came back around and Blaine thought about all the things he didn't yet know about Kurt, all the things he never would know. They hadn't known each other for long, not nearly as long as Blaine would have liked. He knew a lot about Kurt, his little habits, the way he liked things to be just so, what his coffee order was, but there were so many things he didn't know, too and his stomach twisted when he realised he would never know everything, would never get the chance to watch him grow in life, to see him make it all the way to top, like Blaine knew he would. It sent his head spinning, so he shut his eyes tighter and Kurt held him close.

_You could crush me,  
>Please don't crush me,<br>'Cause baby, I'm a dreamer, for sure,  
>And I won't let you down,<br>I swear, this time, I mean it._

Kurt pressed his warm lips to the side of Blaine's head, almost as if to comfort him in some way. He had to have felt how conflicted he was in his arms. Blaine wanted to apologise, but the words didn't come and as the music faded away, Kurt raised his head and their eyes met. Blaine shook his head, no words. Kurt smiled, sadly, too much to say, but not knowing where to begin. Blaine stared into the blue-ness of those eyes and he saw them glistening, the tears threatening to fall. He didn't want Kurt to cry, so he forced himself to smile and then spoke the only words he could speak that were completely and utterly true.

"I'm pretty sure I've never been more in love with you than I am at this very moment."

* * *

><p>"I shouldn't have asked you to this stupid prom."<p>

Kurt's heart stilled in his chest and he sat down next to Blaine, who looked dejected and exhausted. "Um, what?" Kurt asked. "Ten minutes ago you were more in love with me than ever."

"I lied."

"Uh, okay?"

"I'm more in love with you now than I was ten minutes ago, so I lied. Unintentionally, of course, but it's a lie all the same," Blaine said, eyes on his hands. "I shouldn't have asked you, because it makes everything worse."

Kurt let his shoulders slump, relieved, but his breath was still caught in his throat. He understood what Blaine meant, he just wished more than anything that things were different. Kurt reached across and took Blaine's hand in his own. He resisted the urge to flash his middle finger at the guy two table over that was watching them like they were performing chimps at a circus. Blaine looked up, eyes full of curiosity.

"When you asked me to come with you, you said you wanted us to go so that we could have one more night together, a night that meant something," Kurt said. "Every night—hell, _every moment_—with you means something big. It's going to get worse before it gets better, Blaine, regardless of whether or not we went to prom together. I'm still going to miss you every second I'm gone and you're still going to miss me, too. Come on, sit up straight. Don't let this get in the way of your fun."

Blaine sighed and sat up. He scooted his chair closer to Kurt's and took his hand between his own hands. "If they vote either of us in for prom queen, we're both leaving without a word, okay?"

Kurt chuckled. "Deal."

Blaine was stroking Kurt's knuckles, slowly, with his finger tips. "I wish I was drunker."

"Yeah, you've been sipping cups of that crap all night," Kurt said. "Why are you sober?"

"Because I've been drinking water all night."

Kurt reached across and took the plastic cup in front of Blaine and peered inside. He raised it to his nose and sniffed. "Water," he said, quietly. "But—I don't understand."

"I didn't want to get wasted tonight," Blaine shrugged. "I meant it when I said I wanted to remember tonight. I thought about it on the way here, about getting drunk out of my mind, because the world is against me in basically all aspects of my life, but then I looked at you under those stupid lights and you were smiling at me, like you were giving me permission to forget about how horrible everything is, on the night that we were supposed to remember forever, because you understood, and I just couldn't do it. I couldn't stare into those blue eyes and let myself get too drunk to be able to really stare into them and see all those colours and emotions you keep locked up in there. So, I just pretended I was drinking, because I told you I would, which is stupid, now that I think about it, but—I don't know. It made sense at the time."

Kurt sighed. "Why can't I have you forever?"

"But you do have me forever," Blaine said. "You told me once that you'd always be mine. That works both ways. I'm yours forever, whether you like it, or not, I'm yours. 'Doesn't matter how far away you are."

"Promise me you won't ever try to stop yourself from falling in love again, just because of me."

Kurt watched as Blaine seemed to fight something internally, very, very briefly. He shook his head and looked away, staring at nothing in particular.

"I can't make that promise."

* * *

><p>Blaine clapped half-heartedly when the prom king and queen were crowned. He didn't like either of them and barely knew their names. They were those people that all seemed to fall together into one category of people who were the same in Blaine's eyes, those people that he referred to as Scott (because everyone was called Scott) and Scott's girlfriend.<p>

He was relieved that no one had pulled a stunt like they had at the Valentine's dance, because he wasn't in the mood to get into a fight at that moment. All he wanted to do was stare at Kurt, because he wouldn't have much of a chance to do that once Kurt was miles away from him.

He watched Kurt smiling, talking with Mercedes. He threw his head back a bit, laughing at something she had said. He was blinking, those slow, pretty blinks, which still stunned Blaine, because how could anyone blink prettily? Somehow, Kurt managed to do it, he managed to blink and Blaine would melt in seconds.

He smiled, then, when Kurt turned to look at him, one thin, eyebrow raised, questioning him as to why he had been staring at him like that. Blaine shrugged one shoulder and Kurt gave him a small smile, before turning back to Mercedes. Blaine knew he was beginning to sound like a lovesick puppy, but that didn't matter to him, because everything felt right when Kurt smiled at him like that.

Loud music erupted through the speakers then and Kurt's eyes were on him in a flash, a wide grin spread across his face.

_Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown,  
>I set out to get you with a fine toothcomb...<em>

It was freaking Islands in the God damned Stream. Blaine chuckled and shook his head.

"I think that's our cue to get out of here," Blaine told Kurt.

"I think you're right."

"I've got an empty five-star hotel room, if you're interested," Blaine said, cocking one eyebrow.

"Well, lead the way," Kurt smiled. "And hurry up, before the chorus kicks in."

* * *

><p><strong>Let me know what you thought. I'm estimating 34 chapters to go. I know I keep saying four, but I keep changing my mind and stuff. I'll try update tomorrow, if not, the next day :)**


	33. Chapter 33

**I own nothing! The song is here: www(.)youtube(.)com/watch/?v=QZ354zQBPTw :)  
><strong>  
><strong>First off, I don't actually think this chapter is all that bad, but I felt like I was dying inside writing it, for some reason. I had to leave the house and go for a walk and then I had to walk around my house at 5.30am, because.. I don't even know why, but I felt like sobbing in a corner. I think it's because it's coming close to the end and I keep listening to these songs that fit it so well and I don't really know, but this chapter kind of drained me. Maybe it is terribly angsty, I don't know lol. Anyway, I will stop talking now :)<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Oh, baby, don't cry,<br>Let's get through this night,  
>Overcome is all that you are,<br>Is broken inside,  
>But they'll never know,<br>They'll never know._

**Chapter 33:**

"Proms," Kurt declared, as they stepped inside the elevator up to Blaine's hotel room, which was on the sixth floor. "Are so overrated."

Blaine's liquid eyes fell on him, a flash of hurt hidden behind the dark, golden colour. "Did you hate it?"

Kurt looked up at him. "No," he shook his head. "I just meant that there's all this hype built up beforehand, then you go and you realise you don't like half the people there and they don't like you and you just stay there for too many hours, feeling uncomfortable and wishing you had stayed home, but you don't want to leave in case something happens, but nothing does." Kurt paused and Blaine was nodding, slowly and in silence. "I didn't mean you!" Kurt said, quickly. "This has nothing to do with you. If you hadn't been there, I would have been bored out of my mind."

"I shouldn't have made you go."

"I agreed to going, remember?" Kurt corrected. "Blaine, you've got to—" Kurt stopped mid-sentence, because his phone started to vibrate in the inside pocket of his jacket. "Sorry," he mumbled, as he reached inside and pulled it out. "Dad" flashed across the screen and he hit the receive button. "Hello?"

"Kurt?"

"Hi, dad," he said, glancing across at Blaine, who was staring at the buttons by the door that were lighting up one after the other, as they went up each floor.

"Having a good time?"

"I was just telling Blaine how despite proms being massively overrated," he looked sideways at Blaine, whose interest seemed to have grown, his eyes shifting to look across at Kurt. "I actually had a great night. I mean, the décor was tacky and the finger food sucked, but it actually went really well. We even slow danced and no one called the hetero police!" Kurt saw Blaine stifle a smile at that.

"That's great, Kurt, real great," Burt said, happily. "Where are you now? Are you still there?"

Kurt took a deep breath. "Here's the thing," he said. "Blaine has been staying at this hotel in town and—"

"Say no more!" Burt said, quickly.

"Dad," Kurt smiled. "We're in an elevator and besides, Blaine and I aren't even together any more." He saw Blaine frowning again. "Nothing is going to happen, okay?"

Which was probably a lie, because being in an empty hotel room with Blaine Anderson was something one did not just pass up.

"Well, okay," Burt said, but he didn't sound at all convinced. "I'll see you tomorrow, kid. Say hi to Blaine for me."

"Will do, dad," Kurt said. "Bye!"

He slipped his phone back inside his pocket and the elevator came to a halt. The door opened with a small ringing sound and they stepped out onto the long, narrow corridor.

"My dad says hi," Kurt told Blaine, as he followed him to his room.

Blaine nodded a bit and stopped at room 669 (Kurt giggled, very quietly—and obviously very maturely—at that) and slipped the room card key into the small slot, then slid it back out, quickly, as he pushed the door handle down. He pushed the door open and stood back for Kurt to walk inside.

"Do you want me to leave?" Kurt asked, as Blaine closed the door behind them. "Because I can just go, if you want."

Blaine sighed and flung the card onto a small, round table. "When in my life have I ever wanted you to leave anywhere?"

"Okay," Kurt said, carefully. "Well, we can clean up your room, then we can talk about this."

"Why do we have to cl—"

"_Blaine_."

"Okay," Blaine said, tiredly and he bent to pick up a shirt off the floor. "Fine."

It took them ten minutes to take all the clothes and shoes and put them inside the closet and to make the place look neat. Kurt closed the closet and stood back to inspect the room. It looked fine. He looked across at Blaine then, who was smoothening out the bed, looking as if he had the world's worries on his shoulders. His eyes were concentrated on the bed and he didn't notice when Kurt crossed the room, until he had reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder.

Blaine turned to look at Kurt. He gestured behind him at the bed. "I was just—"

"It's fine," Kurt said, reaching out for Blaine's hand. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah," Blaine nodded, twisting his hand to entwine his fingers with Kurt's. "Sorry, I just—I'm sorry."

"I get it," Kurt said, softly.

"No," Blaine said, eyes wide and filled with hurt. "You don't."

* * *

><p>"I.. I don't?"<p>

Blaine shook his head and crawled across to sit up against the pillows. He patted the bed next to him and Kurt followed suit, sitting down next to him.

"Everything hit me today," he told Kurt. "When we were dancing, I felt weird—not in a bad way! I just—I love you more than anything else in the entire world and even though my life is a huge mess, the thing that hurts me more than anything else, is the idea of losing you, which I think I told you already, but Kurt, I feel—I feel like something's tearing me up, like my insides are being torn to shreds and all I can do is accept it. Everything got worse today, Kurt and I just—it frustrated me, so I just—I got a little insecure and..."

"Okay," Kurt nodded. "I get it, now."

"I wanted us to be able to remember tonight," Blaine said, voice breaking a bit. "I just wanted it to be memorable—a good memory, something you can think back on when I'm just a distant memory."

"You'll never be just a distant memory," Kurt assured him.

Blaine shrugged. "You know what I mean," he said. "I just wanted everything about tonight to be perfect."

Kurt leaned closer, then, his eyes a shade darker than usual. His voice came out in a slow whisper then.

"Tonight's not over yet," he said and pressed his mouth down softly over Blaine's and Blaine sighed against Kurt's lips and he felt his lungs deflating and his body went limp in the arms of the boy with the bright blue eyes.

* * *

><p>They hadn't ever been like this before, moving so slowly and so carefully, as if they were afraid they would break one another. Kurt removed the last layer of material keeping them from one another and he pulled Blaine closer, slipping his arms around him, like he was trying to keep him together, to make sure he remained in one piece.<p>

It was different, this situation, because usually they shared the control they had with one another, they moved as equals, both as strong as each other, but tonight, Kurt had the upper hand and Blaine was laying back, letting him move him any way he wanted.

Blaine looked up from where he lay against the pillows, his eyes wide and shining, his mouth set in a thin line, like he was trying not to cry. Kurt fell down next to him and ignored the way that his body was yearning for relief. He laid his head down beside Blaine's and Blaine twisted around to face him.

"It hurts," Blaine uttered, quietly.

Kurt nodded, slowly. "It hurts for me, too," he told him. "I try to be strong about it and I see you breaking in front of my eyes and I figure it's time for me to stop being strong and just break with you."

"You can't be expected to be strong all the time," Blaine told him. "Sometimes you have to just let it all out, because if you don't, at some point it'll all come flooding out all at once and you'll break, permanently and nothing and no one will be able to put you back together again."

Kurt nodded and wondered if Blaine believed he was broken with no chance to be fixed. He hoped not. He leaned up and moved to hover over Blaine, who was looking up at him, his breaths coming out uneven and occasionally, in small sobs. Kurt dropped down and caught Blaine's lips with his own and then they were lost in one another, their bodies flush together, hands exploring every inch of skin, every crevice and curve, every dip and angle. Kurt felt Blaine's breath coming in stutters as he ran a hand slowly over his chest.

"It's okay," he whispered, softly.

Kurt reached down and wrapped his hand gently around Blaine's erection. Blaine sighed and reached up and placed his hand against Kurt's cheek. A second later, he pulled him down for another kiss and Kurt began to pump his hand up on down on Blaine, sending small whimpers from his mouth and into Kurt's.

Kurt felt something cool and hard pressing against his lower back and he pulled his lips off of Blaine's and gasped a bit. Blaine's lips curled up into a smile, then, sending small jolts of electricity all through Kurt's veins. Blaine lifted his hand from Kurt's back and held it up for him to see. It had been the bracelet. Kurt chuckled and closed the space between their lips again and then the cool bracelet was back against his body, only lower down now, on his backside, soft fingertips kissing his skin, making him shiver.

They stayed like that for a long time, their mouths conjoined, Kurt's hand working back and forth on Blaine's cock, Blaine's warm fingertips dancing across Kurt's skin. After a while, Kurt felt Blaine shifting beneath him, his mouth breaking away. Kurt sat up and looked down at him, trying to figure out what had happened, but Blaine only smiled a bit and pushed himself into a seated position.

Blaine rested one hand on Kurt's thigh as he leaned across to the side table and pulled the drawer open. Kurt watched as he reached inside and pulled out a small bottle. Blaine held it up, smiling slightly and Kurt saw what it was.

"You bought lube," he said, a little incredulously. "Wait, why do you have lube? We broke up."

Blaine's cheeks flushed a bright pink and he smiled shyly.

"Blaine Anderson!" Kurt exploded, a wide grin spread across his face. "Have you been practicing without me?"

Blaine reached up and flicked the light switch by the bed, leaving them in darkness, his flushed cheeks no longer visible in the light of the pale moon slipping through the half-closed blinds. "I didn't think practicing with you was an option."

Kurt laughed out loud and pushed Blaine back down. "I love you, you dork," he whispered, before pressing his mouth down over Blaine's again and then they fell back into the slow, fluid movements they had been moving with each other before. Kurt heard the quiet popping sound of the cap and he shuddered when he felt Blaine's cold fingers sliding across his entrance. He pushed his knees further apart and moaned into Blaine's swelled mouth as his fingers slipped in and out of him.

There was something about the darkness that made Kurt more aware of all his other senses. He could hear Blaine's every breath, every small whine, every movement. He moaned a bit when Blaine's fingers disappeared, leaving him empty. Blaine reached up and placed his other hand on Kurt's cheek, his fingers cool and shaking slightly.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Kurt's heart only had a split second to make a flip, before his body was being flipped, Blaine turning him over gently, so that his elbows were pressed into the bed. His heart was hammering in his chest as he pushed himself up onto his knees. He felt the heat of Blaine's body coming down over his back, his breath warm against his neck. Kurt shivered when Blaine pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the top of his back, just beneath the back of his neck and then his mouth was trailing downwards, following the line of his spine, his tongue leaving a wet line all down his back, the wetness drying quickly in the cool air.

Then Blaine's mouth was at his ear again, his hands on his shoulders. Blaine brushed his lips over the top of Kurt's ear, then whispered, very, very quietly.

"_Ready?"_

* * *

><p>Blaine's right arm was curled around his waist, his other arm stretched out above him, on top of Kurt's arm. Blaine's fingers clasped tightly with Kurt's, as he moved behind him, their bodies crashing together in a steady rhythm. Blaine felt dizzy, his skin hot and sticking to Kurt's, the light of the moon slipping across their bodies, casting shadows all across their skin. The white light appeared blue. It bent where one body met the other and it shifted as they moved together.<p>

Blaine slid his right hand down Kurt's body and slipped it backwards until he found his cock, pressed into the covers below. Kurt groaned when Blaine's hand closed around it and he stroked up and down slowly, his erection growing beneath his touch.

Blaine dropped his head down, his lips finding Kurt's neck. He grazed his mouth across his smooth skin and stopped when he found his pulse. He clamped his mouth down over it and sucked on his skin, marking him, wishing he could keep him there forever and keep marking that spot every time it faded away. It wasn't fair. _Kurt was his. _Everyone needed to know it.

Kurt's head tilted until his left ear was pressed into the mattress. Blaine saw his eyes opening and resting on him. He bent and caught Kurt's open mouth with his own, still pumping his hand back and forth on his cock. Kurt whined into his mouth and Blaine quickened the movements of his hips as he moved in and out of Kurt's still relatively tight hole. Blaine kissed him lazily, their tongues moving slowly together, Kurt's eyes closing as Blaine moved faster behind him.

He was close, really close and he knew Kurt was, too. He moved his arms so that they were both wrapped around Kurt and began to thrust his hips harder and faster as he held onto him for dear life. He raised both of them up and Kurt reached out for the head board, using it as support as Blaine literally wrapped himself around his entire body and continued to push in and out, his stomach clenching and unclenching familiarly.

Blaine saw Kurt's fingers curling forward against the wooden board and he cried out as Blaine came hard and fast inside him, the world whitening around the edges, his hips stuttering forward and then Kurt was crying out, needing relief. Blaine dropped onto his side, taking Kurt with him, then reached down and took Kurt's throbbing erection in his hand, carefully. Kurt was muttering obscenities, his eyes dropping down to watch Blaine's hand pumping back and forth on him, small moans escaping his throat.

After a few more thrusts of Blaine's hand, Kurt was coming, a whine that sounded suspiciously like Blaine's name tearing from his mouth, voice guttural and hoarse. Blaine fell back and Kurt fell down on top of him and they just breathed for a long time, Blaine still inside Kurt, his softening dick sensitive. He eased himself out and Kurt was still panting. Blaine moved forward and covered half of Kurt's body with his own, his mouth finding Kurt's and they kissed lazily, again.

Kurt was humming a bit against his lips and Blaine was overcome with emotion, as he thought about the fact that this may very well be their last time together in this way. He tried to protest when Kurt pushed him gently away, because he didn't want to spend one minute without having Kurt in his arms tonight.

"It's only for a second, babe," Kurt assured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

Blaine watched as Kurt climbed to his feet, his legs wobbling a little, then he crossed the floor, the blue light cast from the moon licking a line across his already-pale back. Kurt disappeared inside the bathroom, then came back out holding a towel. He stopped in front of Blaine, then reached down and wiped him clean. Blaine was blushing, which was ridiculous after what they had just done, but he couldn't help it. He was thankful that it could not be spotted in the dim lighting.

Kurt quickly cleaned himself off, then threw the towel off to the side. He pushed the covers back on the bed, then crawled inside and waited for Blaine to join him and when he did, he went up close and wrapped his arms around Blaine's waist, his head resting in that area between his neck and shoulder. Blaine shifted his body so that he could hold onto Kurt, too.

"I won't forget tonight," Kurt told him, quietly, placing the smallest of kisses to his neck. "Not ever."

* * *

><p>Blaine let out an unintentional sob against the top of Kurt's head and that was when Kurt lost it. He opened his mouth to tell Blaine it was okay, but a lump had formed in his throat and he couldn't bring himself to speak those words, because they were lies. He let those walls fall down the, the ones he had been trying to keep up for so long, the ones that stopped the tears from flowing and then feelings from slipping out for all to see.<p>

"Don't cry," Blaine whispered, tightening his grip on him and when he said that, Kurt realised that he had actually begun to cry, slow, warm, salty tears slipping down his face, one at a time and then they were coming faster and soon he was convulsing with sobs and tears and hurt and he just wanted to fix everything that had gone wrong.

Blaine held him there, whispering to him, telling him it was okay, but pretty soon, he had stopped and Kurt realised Blaine was crying, too. He saw the tears slipping from his eyes and there weren't many and he wasn't crying hard, but they were still there. Kurt guessed Blaine was all cried out after everything. He didn't want Blaine to cry any more, he knew he hated it.

"I'm sorry," he sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

* * *

><p>Kurt had remained strong for far too long and Blaine knew what that was like. He knew what it was like to pretend like nothing was wrong, simply because admitting otherwise made you weak. It didn't, not really, because being able to admit to having problems and to being broken meant you were strong. Hiding it, acting like everything was perfectly fine meant you were weak, a coward, not strong enough to face reality.<p>

They fell asleep, clinging to one another like that. Blaine didn't want the night to end, but tiredness overtook him and he slipped into the clutches of slumber and couldn't get away. The next morning, the sunlight slipped through the blinds and Blaine blinked himself awake. He felt Kurt shifting next to him, his eyes still closed. He looked down at him, at his pale skin in the bright light and he asked himself for the billionth time how this boy was real, how he was the same species as everyone else, because there was no one like him, not anywhere in the world.

Kurt woke up then and caught Blaine staring at him. He smiled a bit and pushed himself up to face him.

"Hey," Blaine said.

"Hi," Kurt yawned. "I'm sorry I cried on you last night. I just—"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Blaine shook his head. "I think we're close enough by now that it should be okay to just do whatever, so if you want to laugh, laugh, if you want to cry, cry. I'll love you either way."

Kurt sighed and lay back. "I don't know why we broke up." Blaine didn't say anything, because he did know. "I mean, every time we're near one another we end up making out, or in bed together. What part of that makes sense?"

"None of it," Blaine nodded. "But things in my life rarely do make sense any more. I was just thinking, though. I've been going on about how my life sucks and how no one loves me and blah blah blah, but I didn't once stop and think abut how hard all this must be on you. I get to stay here, in a place I know, surrounded by all these people I know, but you're going out there blind, not knowing anyone, just hoping for the best. I'm sorry about that. I was too busy worrying about my own crap to think about that, which makes me a sucky sort-of-boyfriend."

"In your defense," Kurt smiled a bit. "You are homeless and have been disowned, so I think worrying about me not making friends is acceptable."

"Totally not acceptable," Blaine disagreed. "I claim I love you—and I do—and then I go and do something like this, when love is supposed to be about two people, not just one."

"Blaine," Kurt said, taking his hand. "Don't worry about it. Don't worry about anything except trying to get yourself back on track. You can't—"

"I love you."

Kurt raised an eyebrow and studied him for a few moments, his blue eyes filled with concern. "I know," he said, carefully. "I love you, too. Are you—"

"Okay?" Blaine asked. "No, but that's nothing new."

The thing about Blaine was that he wasn't all that concerned about his lack of parental figures, nor his homelessness, because he had people to turn to. Kurt leaving was different, no one could help him with that. While there would always be people willing to help a homeless teenage boy in need, there wasn't anyone who had an alternative to Kurt Hummel that they could provide him with. Yes, the other stuff bothered him, he wouldn't be human if they didn't, but he hadn't ever really had a real family, anyway, so that wasn't a huge loss.

He guessed he could have gone with Kurt, but in the back of his mind, something was nagging away, telling him he needed to fix things here, because even though Blaine had been mostly independent throughout his life, they were still his parents and no kid likes not being on speaking terms with their parents. He wasn't brave enough to go back and confront them, not yet, but he would have to eventually, but by then Kurt would be gone and there was no way around that.

* * *

><p>"It's strange, isn't it?"<p>

"What is?" Kurt asked.

"Being in love."

"Um, I guess," Kurt said. He hadn't ever thought of it as 'strange'. "How do you mean?"

Blaine was staring across the room at the bare wall. The light coming from the window left a white sheen across the top of his head. "I mean, sometimes I feel like saying 'I love you' isn't enough, because how can three little words that can be used with reference to—I don't know, chocolate chip cookies, equal the love I feel for you? Do you know what I'm saying?"

Kurt thought for a second. "Kind of," he said. "Yeah. Yeah, I get it."

"I don't know," Blaine shrugged. "I just feel as if there should be something more. If I was a poet, I would write you a sonnet. If I was an artist, I'd paint you a masterpiece. But I'm neither of those things, so what do those of us with limited talents do to express our love?"

"You show it," Kurt told him and he looked up at him, eyes filled with wonder. "In the way you act and in the things you say and do and trust me, Blaine, if we're going to base how much you love me on the things you say and do, then you must love me a whole lot."

"I do," Blaine nodded. "Then sometimes I think that sex is not enough."

"_Blaine,_" Kurt smiled and shook his head. "I get it. Nothing is ever enough with you, but sometimes things _are _enough. You on your own, you're enough, so forget all that. As long as I've got you, it's enough. Simple as that."

Blaine frowned. "Which isn't very long at all."

"Hey," Kurt said. "You told me forever and unless my calculations are off—which is doubtful, since you're the one with the time keeping issues—forever is a heck of a long time."

"Well," Blaine said, smiling. "You know what I mean."

"I do," he nodded. "But, you know what, Blaine? Sometimes life's a bitch, but we have to get through the bad stuff to get to the good sometimes and if it's meant to be, fate'll turn it back around and we'll find ourselves face to face again."

Blaine sighed, seemingly unconvinced. "Unfortunately, Kurt," he began. "Sometimes we have to make things happen by ourselves."

"You always have to go and ruin my philosophical moments with your words of wisdom," Kurt grinned.

"You know I'm right," Blaine smiled. "Oh, and speaking of things that are and not supposed to happen," he said. "Good luck explaining that hickey away to your father, who, by the way, you told nothing would happen."

"Ugh," Kurt grimaced. "Why do you have to be such a vampire?"

"Well, it's certainly not because I like the blood of virgins," Blaine smirked.

"Obviously not."

"I don't know, dude," Blaine said, resting his arms behind his head. "You fling your head back in the heat of the moment and your neck is just so smooth and unblemished. It's like it's just begging for me to put my mouth on it, you know?"

Kurt smiled, but he knew Blaine was covering up with humour.

"I belong to you regardless of how many people know it, you know that, don't you?" he asked.

Blaine's face was a mask of sobriety, then and he tilted his head so that his hazel eyes were in line with Kurt's bright, azure ones. "I know," he said, gravely. "But when you own something as precious and as perfect as you, you want to showcase it to the world."

Kurt sighed, contentedly and sat back, Blaine's hand in his own. "We're going to figure this out, Blaine," Kurt told him, confidently. He had no idea how, but they had to try, right? "I love you and you love me and that has to count for something."

"Yeah, but when the world tips sideways and life steps in and everything you've ever known takes a turn for the worst," Blaine began. "It turns out that, despite what you thought, love just isn't enough."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm still so behind on replying to reviews, I'm so, so sorry!<strong>

**This chapter was supposed to have something else in it, but it ended up being longer than intended so that will have to go in the next part, which will probably be up on Saturday. So basically, still 4 more to go (I think) :)**


	34. Chapter 34

**[I own nothing] Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I had a plan to write it last night, but then I was getting bombarded with birthday messages on tumblr and it took me too long to answer those (I'm slow okay) Thank you to everyone who sent me birthday wishes, even though I feel really old now :P Anyway, got it done and it's not even 7am yet :D Yaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy cheers! Again, linking to the fanart that people have done, that continues to make me cry likechildreninafairytale(.)tumblr(.)com/tagged/sideways :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 34:<strong>

There were only two weeks until Kurt was leaving for New York and Blaine was feeling more depressed than he had in a long time. They had spent a lot of time together, despite not actually being together as a couple. Blaine thought about what Kurt had said the night of prom, about how they shouldn't have even broken up, because they always seemed to end up in bed together and it was true.

Since prom, they had ended up in bed together numerous times. They had slept together the night after the nationals competition, which they won (apparently, Quinn wasn't the only one who believed in celebratory sex) and the night of graduation, too. They had spent almost every day during the summer together, too, so naturally, many of those nights had ended with them getting intimate.

Blaine had been sort of bitter-sweet about how often they spent in one another's company, because he had broken it off for a reason, he needed them to not continue to get closer, because that would make things harder, but at the same time, he didn't want to waste a minute not breathing the same air as Kurt. Now that the time was drawing closer, he didn't know what to do.

He had managed to secure a job at the Lima Bean, which wasn't really his dream job, but it was fine for now. It wasn't really that he needed the money, he was still using his father's cash for everything, including the hotel he was now staying in. He had applied for the job because he wanted something to do. He was tired of sitting around, doing nothing all day. It had been good for a while, but he had grown tired of it. At least with the job, he felt as if he was doing something.

He called Kurt one night, as he lay on the bed in his hotel room. He called Kurt most nights, or Kurt called him. It hurt to think about not hearing from Kurt every day once he was gone, but most of the time, he tried not to think about that, because like most things in his life, he put them off until they were right in front of him, when he had no choice but to face them.

"Hi," he said, once Kurt had picked up. "I've been thinking."

"Makes a change," Kurt teased and Blaine smiled, half-heartedly.

"I'm going to go back to my parents' house and pick up the rest of my things," he told Kurt. "Make a clean break and all that."

"Oh, yeah?" Kurt asked. "Are you sure?"

Blaine twisted his face. "Of course, I'm sure," he told him. "Why wouldn't I be sure?"

"I don't know," Kurt said. "I guess it's like clearing out the rest of your things makes it really final, y'know?"

"Exactly!" Blaine smiled, slightly. "I don't want anything to do with them, so I should just break away."

"Only if you're sure."

"I am."

There was a pause, then Kurt spoke, "I'll help you."

"What?"

"Clear your stuff out," Kurt went on. "I can give you a hand with it."

"Oh," Blaine said. "Yeah? You know you don't have to."

"If you don't want me to, I won't." Blaine could almost see Kurt holding up his hands in defence. "I'm just offering my services." Blaine grinned at that. "NOT in that way!" Kurt interjected and Blaine could hear him smiling.

"Aww," he fake pouted. "But seriously, thank you. That would be amazing."

"Okay," Kurt said. "When do we start?"

* * *

><p>"Will you relax?"<p>

"But my dad is home!"

Kurt sighed and sat back in the passenger seat of Blaine's car. "What do you want to do?" he asked. "Do you want to come back another time? Do you want me to leave and do this by yourself?"

Blaine turned and looked at him, face a mask of confusion. "Why would I want you to leave?"

"I just thought—"

"No," Blaine shook his head. "No, I don't care if he sees you. In fact, we should like, make out in front of him, just to get a rise out of him."

"Bad idea," Kurt pointed out.

"I know," Blaine said. "But it's a nice little fantasy."

"I've envisioned nicer fantasies," Kurt deadpanned.

"You should tell me about them some time," Blaine smirked, then took a deep breath. "Okay," he exhaled. "Let's do this."

* * *

><p>"Before you say anything," Blaine said, quickly, once his father had opened the door. He didn't look much like Blaine, only around the nose and he had the same triangular eyebrows. His hair was a shade lighter and his eyes were an ordinary, muddy brown, unlike Blaine's stunning golden ones. He looked stern and reminded Kurt of those really stereotypical business men in TV shows, all pressed suits and stiff upper lips. "I'm here to get the rest of my things and then I'm out of your hair for good."<p>

Kurt followed Blaine into the hallway and Blaine started up the stairs. He stopped half way and looked back at his dad and Kurt saw a familiar glint in his bright eyes. "Oh, by the way, dad," Blaine said. "This is Kurt. I'm glad you two are finally meeting, you know, before we elope."

Blaine turned to look at Kurt, a broad grin plastered on his face. Kurt couldn't help glancing back to see how Blaine's dad had reacted. His expression was a mixture of surprise and anger. Blaine reached out and grabbed Kurt's hand, then pulled him upstairs. "Come on, pretty boy."

Kurt's heart had a half a second to do a mini flip, before Blaine was tugging him gently up the stairs and into his bedroom.

"You just don't know when to keep your mouth shut, do you?" Kurt smiled, closing the bedroom door.

"It was worth it," Blaine said. "_His face!_ That was priceless, oh my God."

Kurt smiled at Blaine's delight. "Come on," he said. "Let's get you moved out."

* * *

><p>"Isn't this.." Blaine turned around when he heard Kurt speaking. "Yeah. This is mine." Blaine turned around to see Kurt holding something grey.<p>

"What?" Blaine asked, curiously.

"This scarf.." Kurt said, slowly. "Did I.. Did I leave this here?"

Blaine went closer. He felt himself blushing when he saw what Kurt was holding. "Oh, that," he said, bashfully. "I meant to give that back. Do you remember the day after Puck's party and you wore the scarf to cover up the..?" He gestured at his neck. Kurt gave a small nod. "So, remember after lunch Puck like, tore it off you and stomped on it, then we shoved you in that locker?"

"I remember."

"Well, I sort of.. went back after a while and it had been flung in the garbage, so I decided I'd take it home and like, wash it and give it back, but I forgot. It's washed. I just never brought it back to you."

"You forgot," Kurt said, carefully.

Blaine shrugged and walked past Kurt. He reached into the back of his closet and lifted out a studded jacket. "Also yours," he said, holding it out for Kurt to take. He took it from him, then looked up at him quizzically. "This got thrown in the garbage, too and I took it home to wash and also forgot to bring that back."

"Okay."

Blaine sighed, then sat down on his bed. Kurt came and sat next to him. "Maybe I didn't forget."

Kurt only nodded.

"It's like.. I was trying to hold on to you," he went on. "Which is dumb, because back then, you weren't even going any where. I guess I was just clinging on to—_something._"

Kurt reached across and placed a warm hand over Blaine's. Blaine raised his eyes to Kurt's. "Do you want to keep them?" Kurt asked, softly.

"Wh-what?"

"Yeah," Kurt shrugged. "I mean, if you want."

Blaine looked down, because Kurt was shoving the jacket and the scarf into his lap. "I—they don't smell like you any more," Blaine said, quietly.

They sat in silence for a few seconds. The humorous atmosphere that had been in the room was gone entirely now. Kurt sat up a bit, then. "I'll take them home and I'll wash them with my detergent, then you can have them back."

"You don't ha—"

"Blaine," Kurt said, steadily and Blaine looked up into Kurt's blue eyes. "It's okay." Kurt gave him a slow nod.

"You make everything better," Blaine told him, trying to ignore the lump forming in his throat. He looked up and tried to smile, but it didn't go all the way to his eyes. "What will I ever do without you?"

* * *

><p>Blaine dropped the last box into the back of his car and Kurt shut the trunk with a loud bang. "All done?" Kurt asked.<p>

"I think so," Blaine told him. "I just want to do a quick walk through downstairs, make sure I don't have to come back. Coming?"

"Sure," Kurt smiled and followed him inside.

They walked through the house, Blaine moving things every so often. His dad seemed to be out of sight now. Kurt wondered where his mom was and just as he thought this, he heard a voice behind him calling Blaine's name. He could see Blaine in her, the bright eyes and the good looks. Kurt felt out of place, he stood back a bit, next to Blaine, because this had suddenly gotten insanely awkward.

"Mom," Blaine said, quietly.

"Your dad said you were here!"

"I'm just getting my things, then I'm leaving," Blaine nodded.

"Blaine," his mother said, with a sigh. Blaine saw her eyes flicker over Kurt for a moment. "Can't you just drop this—this _gay thing_," she whispered those words. "And come home?"

"Drop this.. Okay," Blaine shook his head. "Mom. Look. This," he said, reaching out and taking Kurt by the shoulder. "Is Kurt. Kurt is hands down the greatest person I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, but he didn't make me gay, mom. I was already gay, I always will be. I can't just 'drop it'. It's not as easy as that. This is who I am, so either accept it, or don't, it's your choice. Either way, I'm moving out, because I can't stand to be here any more. I'm done."

"Darling," Blaine's mother said. "It's just a _phase._ When your uncle Ernie was in high school, he went through a similar phase! He thought he was in love with Henry Lionard, who was class president, but look at Ernie now! Married, with three kids and he has his own gas station! Blaine, reconsider, sweetheart."

Blaine could only gape at her, unable to form real, coherent words.

"Mrs Anderson," Kurt said, beside him, much to Blaine's surprise. "I know it's useless trying to explain to you that this is not a choice, because I've met far too many people who believe it is and their opinions can't be changed, no matter what. But Blaine is your son, okay? I have spent years wondering what my mom would think about me if she was alive and from what I've been told, she was an accepting woman. I would still give anything to have her here with me, then I would know for sure. You're still here and Blaine still needs a parent that loves him regardless of his sexuality. Don't let him go away like this, on bad terms. Don't let him lose a mom, because you can't accept who he is, when so many people lose their moms to fatalities.

"There are a million things I wish I could say to my mom, but I can't," Kurt went on. "Life sucks and sometimes, bad things happen and you regret not having said things after it's too late. If you let him walk away now, you might regret it."

Blaine gave Kurt a grateful smile and Kurt just nodded a bit. Blaine looked at his mom, who just looked more confused than anything else. Then he heard his dad's voice behind him, coming out of the kitchen.

"Blaine made his choices," he said, stopping by the door, arms folded across his chest. "Just because your father thinks it's okay for you to bring disgrace on your family, doesn't mean I do. That's what makes our classes so different—"

"With all due respect, Mr Anderson," Kurt interjected. "My father's son isn't the one who has been living at various friend's house, as well as at hotels for the past few months, so I don't think you're in any position to judge how my dad perceives me."

Blaine saw his dad open his mouth to speak, but he spoke first. "Dad," Blaine said. "Seriously, you need to sit down and reevaluate your life. Stop living like this, it's tragic." He saw Kurt stifle a smile beside him. "You know what? I don't even want to be here for a second longer, let's go, Kurt."

Blaine walked towards the hall, Kurt following, but his mom stepped in front of him.

"Blaine," she said. "This is ridiculous. You must know in your heart that this isn't right—"

"Actually, all I know in my heart is that I love Kurt and he loves me, but you guys don't," Blaine said, voice quivering a little. "Because if you did love me, you would accept me no matter what. We're through here. Let us pass."

"Let them go," Blaine heard his father say, sternly behind them and Blaine's mom stepped instantly out of the way. They continued walking, but his father went on. "We don't need filth like that in our house. Especially not the faggy son of a mechanic—"

Blaine didn't have time to think before he had swung back around and made a beeline for his father, but Kurt was there in a flash, restraining him.

"Blaine," Kurt hissed. "It's okay."

"It is not okay," Blaine said, through gritted teeth.

"Yes, it is," Kurt assured him. "Relax. We can just leave and—"

"You know all those times I told you I hated you?" he shouted at his dad, who was still standing by the door. Kurt was gripping his arms tightly and he could have broken away, but that would mean shoving Kurt off, which he wasn't about to do. "I never meant it, not once, but now," Blaine continued. "Now I do. I can't stand you! I hate everything about you. I hate how you act like a complete asshole at home, yet outside, you pretend like we're the perfect family. _We're not. _We never have been. We've never even been a family. All we have ever been is me and mom tip toeing around, afraid to make one wrong turn in case it sets you off. That's what this 'family' has been. You can insult me all you want, whatever, you're the one that raised me, so if I'm a screw up, that's your fault, but don't stand there and call Kurt names when he is a million times more of a man than you could ever be. It's funny, because there was a time when I felt bad for you, felt like there must have been something to make you so.. so _angry_, but I figured it out. You're just a huge asshole and _I hate you_."

Kurt had a steady hand pressed to his back and he was making tiny circular movements with it, which was keeping him calm.

"I'm okay," he told Kurt. Kurt looked sceptical, so Blaine relaxed his body and gave him a nod. "I'm fine." Kurt just nodded and loosened his grip, but he didn't let go entirely. "We should just go," Blaine said.

He shot his dad one more glare, then turned around and let Kurt steer him towards the door. Blaine gave his mom a look of disapproval, then continued on out the door, leaving it all behind. He was through with them, through with everything. He didn't want anything to do with them, not ever again.

* * *

><p>"It'll be okay," Kurt said, stroking Blaine's hair back from his face. "I know right now it doesn't seem like it will, but I promise it'll be okay. Things always get better, babe. Sometimes, they just have to get worse, first."<p>

"Th-that's the worst pep talk you have ever give me, Kurt Hummel," Blaine told him, wiping his eyes.

"Well, I can't be perfect all the time," Kurt smiled, sadly.

"And suddenly everything I've ever believed in has been shattered into a million pieces," Blaine joked, sniffling a bit.

"Honestly, though," Kurt said, placing a light kiss to Blaine's forehead. "It can't stay bad forever. Nothing is ever permanent."

Blaine twisted his face, his eyes filled with confusion. They were more green than anything else, which happened every time he cried. "I love you," he told Kurt. "That's permanent."

"Oh, I didn't mean—wow. I suck. I guess some things are permanent," Kurt shook his head. "Sorry. I love you, too. I'll never stop."

"You do sort of suck sometimes," Blaine told him.

"You are just extra bitchy, lately," Kurt smiled, still stroking Blaine's dark curls back from his face.

"I have good reason," Blaine pointed out. "Sorry. You don't suck. At least not in the way I just meant. I just—I don't know. I'm tired of everything being a mess. I'm tired of crying, yet somehow, I still seem to have so many tears left in me that just refuse to stay locked up."

"So just cry," Kurt shrugged, laying back next to Blaine. "If you need to cry, cry. I could never judge you for needing to cry."

Blaine moved to lie on his side and he leaned across and rested his head on Kurt's chest. Kurt reached down and continued to stroke his hair. "I'm sorry, I'm just going to slobber all over you, right now," Blaine told him.

"Usually, I would tell you to get the hell off me, because that's disgusting and I like this shirt," Kurt said. "But slobber away."

"Have I told you I loved you today?"

"Yes," Kurt said. "But I could never get tired of hearing that."

* * *

><p>"So then Blaine told him he hated him and we left and I took him back to his hotel and he just.. Just cried, dad. He just cried until he fell asleep."<p>

Kurt watched as Burt's look of anger changed to one of pity. He shook his head and took his cap off, then placed it down on the kitchen table.

"Did you tell him he could come stay here whenever he wants?" Burt asked. "I don't like him being alone in a hotel, Kurt."

"I told him," Kurt sighed, tiredly. "I tell him every single day. He won't come over."

Burt looked angry again as he fidgeted with his cap. "Alright," he said. "But I have an idea. Hear me out and tell me what you think."

* * *

><p>Blaine opened the door to his hotel room and Kurt was standing there, smiling, his hair perfectly coiffed, eyes bright and beautiful and jeans tighter than should have been possible. Blaine smiled instantly, then frowned.<p>

"You're leaving in three days."

"I know," Kurt said, smile fading. Blaine stepped back and he walked inside. He saw Kurt looking around the room, just as he always did, making sure Blaine wasn't living in a pig sty. Blaine had gotten into the habit of cleaning it every time he knew Kurt was on his way over, just to avoid wasting the first ten minutes of their time together cleaning up. "So, listen, I have to talk to you."

"That sounds foreboding," Blaine chuckled, climbing on to the bed and waiting for Kurt to come and sit next to him.

"It's nothing bad," Kurt told him, moving to sit beside him. "It's just.. The day you officially moved out, my dad and I got talking and he came up with this idea."

"I'm listening," Blaine said, though he didn't see what could be done to solve anything that had gone wrong in his life.

"He suggested that when I leave," Kurt said and Blaine's heart sank on the words 'when I leave'. "You move in to my room."

"No," Blaine shook his head.

"What? Why not?"

"I can't just move in to your room, Kurt," Blaine said. "That's horrible."

"How is it horrible?" Kurt enquired. "Blaine, do you think I feel at ease knowing you're in some strange hotel room, surrounded by strangers? At least if you were with my dad, I would be a little more relaxed out there."

Out there. That was what they had started calling New York. Out there seemed like a million miles away to Blaine.

"Kurt, I just don't want to intrude—"

"You wouldn't be intruding!" Kurt said. "You're practically family. Seriously. Say yes. Please? I'll do anything."

"Anything?" Blaine raised one eyebrow, but his heart wasn't in it.

"_Anything_," Kurt nodded. "Honestly, if you're not comfortable with it, say no, but I would love it if you said yes. We could move you in tonight. We could spend the last few nights together. We'd sleep better together, right?" Kurt asked, hopefully.

Blaine looked down at his hands, trying to think. He wasn't sure if spending the last few nights with Kurt would be a good thing, because it hurt to know they only had such a short amount of time left. On the other hand, he didn't want to spend the last few nights _without _Kurt..

"Okay," Blaine nodded. "And I definitely wouldn't be a hassle?"

"Shut up and kiss me," Kurt said, reaching across and trying to tug him forward by his shirt.

"Kurt," Blaine said. "Seriously, tell me. Am I overstepping?"

"Baby," Kurt said, firmly. "I need you to be safe, okay? Regardless of how much you think going out there is going to make me forget about everything here, it doesn't matter. You're wrong. I'm going to spend all my time wondering what you're doing and if you're getting on okay. At least if you have my dad there, as someone you can go to for whatever you need, I'll be able to have some sort of solace."

"Really?"

"Really," Kurt clarified.

"Okay."

Kurt grinned and began pulling him forward again, but Blaine stopped for a second time. "What now?"

"Baby is mine," Blaine told him, with a smile. "You had babe and I had baby, remember?"

"I remember," Kurt smirked. "Now can I kiss you?"

"One more thing."

"What?"

"Tell me you love me?" Blaine choked out.

"I love you," Kurt told him and Blaine smiled, his golden syrup eyes falling on Kurt's ocean blue ones.. "I'll tell you every second until I leave if it'll make you smile like that."

Blaine closed the space between their lips this time and he kissed him slowly, savouring every moment, because moments like these, were the ones that you didn't forget, no matter what and Blaine wanted the last few days to be filled with those unforgettable moments.

Maybe he would be left behind, but he would not be forgotten.

* * *

><p><strong>I'll update on Tuesday, because I'm back at college then and I have to sleep early on Monday. So, you know how it's always 4 MORE CHAPTERS LEFT? I figure it's down to 3 now :( I'm also horribly behind on replying to reviews, so I'm still going to try to get through those. Okey doke. :)<strong>


	35. Chapter 35

**I own nothing. Sorry I didn't post yesterday, my internet kept disconnecting. The song I had on repeat throughout the whole chapter was Kiss Me, by Ed Sheeran: www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=y6ei4FmVwV4 and listening to it while reading it makes it sadder, I swear. I read over it and I was like WHY AM I LIKE THIS WHY DO I LIKE ANGST WHY CAN'T I LIKE COTTON CANDY FLUFF, but I like both, I just like angst more lol. Anyway, proceed :)**

* * *

><p><em>I was made to keep your body warm,<br>__But I'm as cold as the wind blows,  
><em>_So hold me in your arms._

_My heart's against your chest,  
>Your lips pressed to my neck,<br>I've fallen for your eyes,  
>But they don't know me yet.<em>

_And with this feeling I forget,  
>I'm in love now.<em>

**Chapter 35:**

"This is so depressing," Blaine said, staring out over the familiar field, the light of the moon slipping through the tall trees and highlighting some sections, but Kurt and Blaine were standing in the shade, just staring into nothingness. They had been standing there in silence for ten minutes, before Blaine had declared it depressing.

"I can't say I disagree," Kurt said, as Blaine dropped to sit down in the grass. Kurt sat down next to him, carefully, cringing a bit at the dirt he was about to sit in, but he sat anyway because tomorrow, he was leaving and he wasn't going to let his fear of getting a little dirty ruin their final night together.

Blaine sighed and inched closer, then leaned in and laid his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Can we just stay here like this forever?"

Kurt chuckled. "What would we do if it rained? And what about skincare?"

Blaine smiled and nudged Kurt playfully. "Seriously, though," Blaine said, still smiling. "Couldn't I like, buy a shed and set it down here and just live here for the rest of forever?"

"The rest of forever seems like an awfully long time," Kurt told him.

"Unfortunately," Blaine sighed again.

"There's still that idea we talked about last night," Kurt pointed out.

Blaine caught his bottom lip between his teeth and said nothing. What they had discussed the previous night was Blaine coming to New York with Kurt, but Blaine didn't see how that was going to work out. He guessed he could have gone, but that would mean going out there straight away, because if he waited a long time before joining Kurt, chances were Kurt would already be caught up in the wonder and awe of the big city. Maybe he would even find someone else, someone more interesting, more attractive and with more talent than Blaine. If he was going to go to New York, he would have to leave with Kurt, tomorrow, but he couldn't do that.

"_Why not?_" Kurt had asked and Blaine hadn't been able to give him a straight answer. He didn't know what it was that was keeping him there, or maybe he did, he just had trouble admitting it. As much as he disliked his parents and the situation they had put him in, he felt like he couldn't just leave them without trying again. Maybe he could talk to his mom, help her understand.

But he couldn't bring himself to do that yet. However, he couldn't leave until he knew he had tried and by the time he did that, Kurt would be settled in and probably wouldn't even want him there any more. Besides, New York seemed very surreal to him. He couldn't imagine himself out there, amongst the glamour and the big city lights. He needed to get his head around everything before he could make any drastic decisions, which was why he had to decline Kurt's proposal that he go with him.

"I guess I can't expect you to come all the way out there for me," Kurt said, obviously sensing Blaine's discomfort.

"It's not that," Blaine said, quickly. "If you asked me to go out there with you, I'd go, no questions asked." It was true, if Kurt really wanted him there, he would go. Maybe he wouldn't be entirely comfortable with it, but if that was what Kurt wanted, he would do it.

It occurred to Blaine then that maybe he needed that, too, for Kurt to ask him to go with him, to beg him to go, to tell him that he couldn't possibly go anywhere without him and that he absolutely had to have him with him forever. Which was unfair, because Blaine knew Kurt loved him and Kurt couldn't know what Blaine wanted unless he told him. Blaine didn't even really know what he wanted himself. He wanted Kurt to stay with him, but he would never let him, because this was Kurt's dream and he wanted Kurt to go out and live it. He wanted to be with Kurt, but he couldn't see a way to make that happen that didn't make him feel as if he would be making the wrong decision, for whatever reason.

"I don't think you want me to ask that of you," Kurt said, softly, shifting a bit and Blaine sat up so that he could look into those ocean blue eyes. "I know you have your reasons, so I won't ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with, but.." Kurt paused for a moment and Blaine waited for him to go on. "Tell me the reason you don't want to go isn't because you don't love me, or want to be with me."

"Are you crazy?" Blaine asked, incredulously. "That couldn't be further from the truth. I always want to be with you. I just—I don't really know what it is, I just—I can't leave yet. Unless you want it."

"I'm not about to make you leave when something is telling you you need to stay, but—"

"No," Blaine said, before Kurt could finish that sentence. "I know what you're going to say and if I don't go with you now, I never will, because once you're out there, everything will have changed and I won't be enough and—"

"_You won't be enough?_" Kurt asked, eyes wide. "Blaine," Kurt breathed and then he was pushing Blaine backwards, until he was flat on his back with Kurt sitting next to him, but leaning across him, his hands on either side of his arms. Blaine's heart had begun to thump faster in his chest and he looked up at Kurt, shadows cast all across his body from the moon and the trees and the stars and he felt his heart aching, because how was he supposed to just let this boy walk out of his life without a fight? "I know you think that going out there is going to turn me into some stranger, but it won't. I'll still be me, the same guy who fell in love with you, even when you were hurting me. If I could love you then, I can love you no matter what."

Blaine just took slow, even breaths, eyes locked on Kurt.

"And I know that you're not convinced now," Kurt went on, moving a hand to rest against Blaine's left cheek. His touch sent small shivers all down Blaine's spine. That feeling never got old. "But maybe at some point that'll register and you'll be able to do something about it."

"You should kiss me now," Blaine uttered.

Kurt smiled and it made Blaine's heart still in his chest for a split second. "I should," he said, then he lowered himself down, the palm of his hand still pressed to Blaine's cheek, then his mouth was about an inch away from Blaine's and he stopped.

"What are—"

"Shh," Kurt whispered, then he smiled and pressed his lips to Blaine's.

Blaine reached up to pull him closer, to deepen the kiss, to drink him in and hold on to him and just have him there, close to him, flush against him, like no one else ever had been, but Kurt just tilted his head back and looked down at Blaine, with those bright, glistening eyes and shook his head.

Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but Kurt spoke first, "If you go too fast, it'll all be over too quickly and I never want it to be over."

Blaine wondered if he was talking about sex, but he had a feeling he wasn't. He didn't say anything, just nodded and then Kurt's lips were on his again. Blaine closed his eyes and slipped his arms around Kurt's waist, then pulled him down, gently, not rushing, just needing to have him close. Kurt hummed against his lips and Blaine slipped his hands under Kurt's jacket, then under the soft material of his shirt and pressed the tips of his cool fingers to the small of Kurt's smooth back. He felt Kurt gasp a little against his lips, but then he settled back into the slow, contrived kiss as Blaine's finger tips placed tiny kisses all along the soft skin of his lower back.

Blaine shuddered when Kurt's cold hands slipped under his shirt and pressed against his stomach.

"Sorry," Kurt whispered very quietly against Blaine's lips.

"Don't apologise," Blaine smiled up at him and Kurt blinked a couple of times, slowly, his lashes thick and dark in the dim light. Blaine raised his head a bit, beckoning Kurt's lips to his own. Kurt pressed his lips back down over Blaine's and slipped his tongue past his teeth.

Blaine felt Kurt's lips tilting into a smile against his own and his fingers were moving upwards, over his ribs and then higher. Blaine hummed when Kurt's thumb flicked over his right nipple and then his hands were lingering at the sides of his ribcage and Blaine squeaked a bit. Kurt tore his lips away and grinned.

"I forgot you were ticklish," he told him and he moved his fingers again. Blaine jerked away, trying to stifle his laughter.

"You did that on purpose!" Blaine accused, covering his stomach with his arms.

Kurt laughed out loud then pushed Blaine back down. Blaine tried to protest, still shielding his body, but Kurt just shook his head and his wide grin faded to a smile. Kurt caught Blaine's eyes and Blaine knew then that the joke was over and Kurt wanted to go back to them just being close to one another. Blaine nodded very slightly and then Kurt was sliding his hands under his shirt again, but this time, they slipped under him, to press against his lower back. Blaine took Kurt's chin gently in his hand and pulled him down for another kiss, slipping his other hand back to where it had been before, on the small of Kurt's back.

Kurt kissed him back and Blaine was dizzy. Kurt's mouth moving against his own, that familiar smell, his light touch, all sent him reeling, his heart hammering away inside his chest. Kurt moved his mouth then and began to kiss his way down Blaine's jaw, only stopping when he reached the side of his neck, near his pulse. Blaine tilted his head to give him more space and then he felt Kurt's warm tongue on him. He began to place, short, open-mouthed kisses to his neck and Blaine moaned.

"You okay?" Kurt whispered, taking his mouth off of Blaine to speak.

"Will you.."

"Anything you want," Kurt told him.

Blaine felt his skin flushing when he said it, "Mark me?"

Kurt leaned back to look at him, his eyes soft, but still wild-looking. "If you want," he told Blaine.

"I want," he permitted. "I want to have it there for after you're gone."

"Okay," Kurt nodded, then bent his head again, his lips finding Blaine's pulse. Kurt kissed him there a few times, then his teeth were nibbling very gently on his skin and Blaine flung his head back, baring his neck completely for Kurt.

"_Please_," Blaine whispered and Kurt placed a final butterfly kiss to his neck, before burying his head there. It was a strange thing, to have someone sucking on your neck, but Kurt felt amazing. His hot mouth was locked on his soft skin and Blaine just wanted this forever, wanted Kurt to just mark him all over and claim him as his own so that everyone knew.

After a long time, Kurt raised his head and Blaine opened his eyes and Kurt was smiling down at him, his blue eyes a shade darker than they had been before.

"You're beautiful," Kurt told him, which was new, because usually it was Blaine telling Kurt he was beautiful. Blaine smiled and felt a lump forming in his throat, not for the first time that day. "Are you going to cry?" Kurt asked, reaching up to push a stray curl back from Blaine's forehead.

"No," Blaine told him, with a smile, but he wasn't sure that was true.

Kurt dropped down and pressed a light kiss to Blaine's forehead, then pulled back again and looked at him. "Let me see the damage," he chuckled and tilted Blaine's chin with his fingers. "Hmm," Kurt grinned. "Not bad for a first timer."

"Do you remember the first time we did it here?"

Kurt spluttered. "_Yes_," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I just remember thinking it was so—_dirty_."

"Oh, admit it, you loved it," Blaine smirked. "_Every. Single. Time._"

"Never said I didn't," Kurt said, dropping his hand to Blaine's shoulder.

"Thought not," Blaine smiled. "That was one of the greatest nights of my life."

"Yeah, you said so the night of your birthday party," Kurt informed him.

"I did?" Kurt nodded. Blaine shrugged. "I meant it. It was. All of the best nights were with you. And the best days, too."

"Same for me," Kurt told him.

"Not for long," Blaine said, smile fading. "Pretty soon your best memories will be memories of things you do in New York." He saw Kurt frowning. "I don't mean to sound bitter about that. Sorry."

"It's fine," Kurt shook his head and entwined his arms around Blaine's neck. "But seriously, Blaine, regardless of what happens in my life, this—_us_— will always be special to me. I love you, remember? That doesn't just go away over night."

Blaine nodded and sighed. He reached up and pulled Kurt down for another kiss. They kissed, slowly and for a long time, until they had to come up for air. Blaine's head was misty and his heart felt huge in his chest. All he wanted to do was reach up and pull Kurt down to him, clasp him in a tight embrace and never let go.

Blaine did reach up and pull Kurt down, he held him close and wrapped him up in his arms and they stayed there talking quietly for a long time, but in the end, Blaine still had to let go.

They climbed to their feet and Kurt reached across for Blaine's hand.

"I'm going to miss this place," Kurt said, looking out over the darkness.

"I'm not going to come back here without you," Blaine decided.

"What?" Kurt asked, turning to look at him. "Why not? You used to come here without me before."

"Yeah," Blaine shrugged one shoulder. "But you don't miss something you never had and now that I've had you and that I've spent so much time with you here, I can never go back to not knowing what it's like to have you here with me, you know?"

Kurt stared at him with those bright blue eyes for a couple of heart beats, then he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I get it."

"You know what we should do?"

"What?"

Blaine grinned and began tugging Kurt towards the dark trees.

"Oh, no," Kurt said, stopping still. "There is no way you're getting me in there. There is bound to be wild animals and bugs and—and filth and—"

"Come _on_, Kurt!" Blaine smiled, tugging lightly on Kurt's hand. "Trust me."

Kurt sighed. "Fine," he said. "I must really love you a whole lot."

"You do," Blaine grinned and lead Kurt into the darkness. He stopped by a tall oak tree and reached inside his pocket for his phone. "Hold this," he said, handing the phone to Kurt, the soft glow of the phone a little shocking to his eyes. Kurt held up the phone as Blaine produced a key from his pocket.

"What are you—oh," Kurt said, watching as Blaine leaned into the tree and started to carve into the thick bark. "This is vandalism."

"Live a little," Blaine smiled, glancing across at Kurt. He dragged the sharp end of the key down making the letter 'B'. He continued to carve into the wood until he was done. He stood back to admire his handy work, his eyes roving over the crooked letters inside the crooked heart shape in the light of the phone.

_Blaine  
>and<br>Kurt_

"You're a cheesy, little romantic," Kurt smiled, grabbing Blaine's hand again.

"Oh, the 'little' jokes never get old, Hummel," Blaine grinned, slipping the key back in is pocket. "How long do you think this will be here?"

"Hopefully forever," Kurt said, a little dreamily.

Blaine frowned a bit then, because maybe the carving would be there forever, but they wouldn't last forever. They stood there staring at it for another while, then Kurt gave Blaine's hand a light squeeze.

"We should get home," he said.

"I guess," Blaine nodded. "Kiss me one more time in our field. Just once more."

Kurt smiled and moved to stand in front of Blaine, then he tugged him forward and crushed their mouths together and this time, the kiss was anything but slow and careful. Instead, it was frantic, needy, filled with yearning and passion and want and Blaine just needed to take Kurt home and make the most of their final night together.

"I love you," Kurt breathed, once they had torn their mouths apart.

"And I love you," Blaine replied, his fingers clasped with Kurt's. "I love you so much it hurts."

And it was true, it really and truly did hurt.

* * *

><p>"Blaine," Kurt shook his head. "That is a terrible show, we are not watching that." Kurt made a grab for the TV remote, but Blaine held it away from him.<p>

"I happen to like this show," Blaine quipped back, holding the remote up in the air, even though Kurt was taller than him and could easily have reached it if he really wanted to.

"That's because your taste is in your ass," Kurt told him.

"Does that include my taste in men?"

Kurt glared at him. "No," he said, finally. "Your taste in men is flawless, but your taste in television is tragic."

"God, fine," Blaine smiled and dropped the remote down into Kurt's lap, before flinging himself back on the couch, his body leaning on Kurt's side. "Why are we even watching TV when we could go downstairs and—"

"Hi, dad," Kurt said, loudly over Blaine, because Blaine couldn't see the door from the angle he was sitting in. Burt walked in the door, holding a mug.

"Oh, hey, guys," Burt said and Blaine pushed himself up. "Didn't know you were home. I was just gonna.." Burt gestured towards the TV. "But watch whatever you were watching, I can go—"

"Actually, dad, we weren't watching anything, just browsing," Kurt told him, then he elbowed Blaine. "We'll go to my room and leave you to watch.. whatever you were about to watch."

Burt raised an eyebrow, looking from Kurt to Blaine, then back to Kurt.

"Dad," Kurt groaned. "We're just going to hang out, okay? This is my last night here, can't I at least spend time with the guy I love without you thinking we're going to—to do _that_?"

Burt gave a Gallic shrug. "I didn't say a word."

Blaine spluttered a bit and Kurt gave him a sideways scowl. "What?" Blaine asked. "He's right, he didn't say anything!"

"Whose side are you on?"

"There are no sides, Kurt," Burt chuckled and sat down in his arm chair. "Now go downstairs, unless you want to stay and watch football."

Kurt turned around instantly and gave Blaine a gentle push towards the stairs to his room. Blaine tried to protest, but Kurt rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm, then tugged him down the stairs after him. Once inside, Kurt shut the door.

"Do you think he'll come check on us?" Blaine asked.

"He hasn't come down the past two nights, has he?"

"No," Blaine concluded. "So.."

"What?" Kurt smirked.

"Nothing."

"Would that nothing have anything to do with farewell sex?" Kurt enquired.

"_Farewell sex_," Blaine scoffed. "You're something else, do you know that?"

"I am aware," Kurt smiled and went closer. He saw Blaine swallow hard when he reached out and tugged him forward by the round neck of his t-shirt. Blaine allowed Kurt to push him down onto the bed, his hands trailing down his body until they rested on either side of his hips. "I'm just going to take your clothes off, okay? It'll save time."

"Yeah, whatever you want," Blaine breathed. "Wh-what about yours?"

Kurt raised a thin brow, then stood back. In one swift movement, his shirt was over his head and he threw it across the room. It landed on a chair. Blaine's mouth hung open as Kurt shrugged out of his pants, then slid his briefs off.

"Y-you just—"

"Your turn," Kurt smiled, mischievously.

* * *

><p>Blaine cried out as Kurt's hand moved back and forth on his erection, almost frantically. He wasn't going to last if Kurt continued to do this to him and he wanted to last. He wanted this night to last forever, because after this it was all over.<p>

"Kurt," he exhaled. "Please, Kurt. I—I can't—"

"What do you want?" Kurt asked, his blue eyes wild and bright.

Blaine couldn't think, his mind was clouded and the world was a blur. "Um," he paused. "Will-will you top?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow again. It had been a long time since Kurt had topped. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Blaine nodded. "I want to feel you for the next few days and I want you to be able to walk tomorrow, so yeah, definitely sure."

"It.. It's been a while," Kurt said, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. "Are you sure?" he asked again.

"Unless you don't want to."

"I want to."

"Good," Blaine said and he pushed himself up and reached over to grab the small tube of lube Kurt kept in his side drawer. "Here you go, pretty boy, work your magic."

"My magic," Kurt chuckled as he popped the cap open. He squeezed a blob onto his fingers, rubbed them together, then bent forward, his hand trailing down to find Blaine's opening. "Stop squirming," he said, once he had pressed a cool finger to his body.

After a few minutes of simply flicking his fingers across Blaine's entrance, Kurt slipped a finger inside, slowly. Blaine winced at the intrusion, but insisted Kurt keep going, so he did.

"Kurt," Blaine managed after a while. "Kurt, if you don't st-stop I won't—I can't, Kurt—"

"Okay," Kurt said, slowing his fingers. "Okay, relax."

Blaine groaned in frustration as Kurt removed his fingers completely. Kurt shushed him as he got himself ready. He moved up onto his knees and angled Blaine's legs around him.

"I bet you wish you hadn't insisted on topping all those times now," Kurt smirked, placing a hand on Blaine's thigh.

"No," Blaine said, opening his golden eyes all the way to look up at Kurt. "N-no regrets," he told him, breathing shaky. "Everything's worth it with you," he uttered. "Always worth it."

* * *

><p>"I can stop," Kurt looked down a t him as he winced beneath him. "If you need me to."<p>

"Don't," Blaine said, quickly. "Don't you dare, Kurt Hummel, or—or I'll—"

"You'll what?" Kurt grinned, quickening his thrusts. "What are you going to do, Blaine?"

Blaine swallowed and closed his eyes, Kurt still smiling at him. He caught his bottom lip between his teeth in order to stop the whine from escaping his lips.

"Lie back and take it," Blaine replied, finally, his body pulsing with pain and pleasure and dizziness.

"Good," Kurt hummed and moved his hips forward in a rhythm, pushing in and out of Blaine, quickly, his hands on either side of Blaine's body.

After that, Blaine couldn't form coherent words, he simply lay there and met Kurt's thrusts with his own, their bodies moving together in a steady rhythm. Blaine's heart was hammering away inside his chest, so hard that he thought it might burst from its confines and all he wanted to do was pull Kurt to him and grip on to him forever.

As if he could read Blaine's mind, Kurt pulled Blaine into his arms, slowing his thrusts for a moment, but not stopping. He bent so that they were wrapped around each other, their chests pressed together, hearts beating fast. Blaine moaned a little, his emotions whirling. He couldn't tell if the small sobs escaping his lips were because of the sensation of Kurt slipping in and out of him, or because of everything he was feeling, what with Kurt leaving and the way his life was going. He thought it might have been a combination of everything.

He whimpered when Kurt reached down and took his throbbing erection in his hand and began to match the thrusts of his hand with the thrusts of his hips and Blaine's eyes rolled back in his head and he couldn't any more, couldn't stop the loud cries from slipping out of his mouth. Kurt smiled a little and bent to catch Blaine's lips with his own, probably to stifle the sounds, because after all, his dad was upstairs.

But Blaine was lost and he needed to just let himself go. He tore his mouth off Kurt's and Kurt tried to quieten him down. He pressed his mouth against Blaine's again, but Blaine only sucked Kurt's bottom lip into his mouth. Kurt chuckled a little, then his smile faded as he came closer and closer and Blaine knew he would come soon, he could see it in his half-lidded blue eyes. His thrusts were coming faster now and his hand was moving quickly and Blaine felt light headed as he came hard and fast under Kurt's touch. He didn't have time to compose himself, because then Kurt's hips were stuttering forward and he was coming, too, inside Blaine and they both moaned as Kurt collapsed on top of him.

They stayed like that, just breathing for a long time, then Kurt twisted his neck, so that his bright, cyan eyes were in line with Blaine's hazel ones.

"Are you okay?" Kurt whispered.

"I'm going to love you every day for the rest of my life."

* * *

><p>Their hands were clasped together as they lay there in the dark, slivers of light slipping through the small, rectangular windows at the top of the left wall.<p>

"I'm going to call you every day, you know," Kurt told him.

"I won't pick up."

"Rude," Kurt said and Blaine could hear him smiling. "Why not?"

"Because it's easier that way," Blaine told him.

"No, it's not," Kurt said. "How is not talking to one another easier?"

"It just is," Blaine told him. "I can't imagine hearing from you every day and not getting to be with you."

"Well, I can't imagine not hearing from you every day," Kurt shot back.

"Fair point," Blaine said, quietly. "I still won't pick up, though."

"What if I really, really need to talk to you?"

"Then you text me beforehand telling me of your dire need to converse with me," Blaine smiled. "And then and only then will I pick up when you call."

"So, what's your plan?" Kurt asked, twisting his fingers in Blaine's hand. "After I leave you're just going to act like I never existed?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I don't think I'm being ridiculous," Kurt told him. "I mean, I understand why you think it's a bad idea for us to go on talking and stuff, because it will be hard, but are you going to just act like we never happened?"

Blaine rolled his eyes. "I'm going to have nothing but you on my mind for every second of the foreseeable future," Blaine said. "So, no, I'm not going to just at like we never happened."

"Okay."

Silence.

"I'm sorry," Blaine said, dropping on to his side, to face Kurt. "I'm not mad, or anything. I'm just scared of everything. I don't know what to do."

"It's okay, babe," Kurt said, turning to face him, too. He pushed himself up close, so that his arms were around is waist. "I'm scared, too."

"Don't be," Blaine smiled. "Everything will be fine. You'll love it out there. It's what you were born to do."

"What about you?" Kurt asked, quietly. "What are you going to do? What were you born to do?"

"I," Blaine smiled, looping his arms around Kurt's neck. "Was born to love you."

Kurt chuckled and pressed a butterfly kiss to his lips. Blaine smiled and breathed him in, because this was it for real, this was the final night and he couldn't bring himself to ruin it with the threatening tears prickling at his eyes, he couldn't bring himself to make this a horrible night, filled with sadness and moping around. He needed to make this night good, memorable, perfect.

"Promise me you'll call me if you need to," Kurt said. "I mean it, Blaine, if you need me, you pick up a phone and call me. If my dad tells me that—"

"I'll call you if I need you," Blaine assured him. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic," Kurt said, flatly. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"When you said you'd love me every day for the rest of your life," Kurt provided. "Did you mean that?"

"Absolutely," Blaine said, not missing a beat.

"I'll love y—"

"Don't tell me that," Blaine said. "I can't hear that and then watch you go. It's selfish and unfair of me not to let you say it, but I'm sorry, I just can't hear it."

"Tough," Kurt said, tightening his grip on Blaine's waist. "I'll never not love you. No matter what."

"Okay," Blaine exhaled. "You should sleep now."

"I don't want to," Kurt said, but he yawned, then.

"Yes, you do," Blaine smiled. "Come on, sleep. I'll still be here in the morning."

"Promise?"

"What, that I'll still be here in the morning?"

"No," Kurt said. "That you'll never stop loving me."

"Oh," Blaine said. "Yeah, I promise. I swear it on anything."

"Good," Kurt said and he yawned again. "I love you, Blaine."

"I love you, too," Blaine told him, placing a small kiss to the tip of Kurt's nose. "I love you."

Then Kurt moved in and laid his head in that space between Blaine's neck and shoulder and Blaine held him closer and they fell asleep like that, listening to one another's breathing and the sound of their hearts beating, just holding on to each other, for the very, very last time.

* * *

><p>"Yes, dad, I have everything," Kurt smiled, rolling his eyes a bit. He looked across at Carole and Finn sitting on the couch. Finn was watching the TV, while Carole smiled and looked teary-eyed.<p>

"I can't believe you boys are going to college all ready," she said. Finn was going to New York, too, with Rachel, so he and Kurt were going together, because their parents were dating. Rachel was going with her dads.

"Time flies," Burt smiled, sitting down next to Carole. "You guys had better get going."

"Yeah," Finn said, standing up. "I'll put your things in the car, okay, dude?" he said, looking at Kurt.

"Thanks, Finn," Kurt smiled, then looked at his dad. "I'm just going to go talk to Blaine for a minute, okay?"

"Sure thing, kiddo," Burt smiled, back and Kurt turned around and headed downstairs, where Blaine was in his room, making sure he wasn't forgetting anything.

He pushed the door open and saw Blaine sitting on the bed, staring at his hands in his lap.

"You okay?"

Blaine looked up quickly. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, fine."

"We've gotta get going in a few," he told Blaine.

"I know," Blaine said, then patted the bed next to him. Kurt went and sat down. "I'm going to miss you like you wouldn't even believe," he told Kurt. "Seriously."

"I'm going to miss you, too," Kurt nodded. "I'm going to miss you every second of every day."

Blaine sighed and moved forward for a kiss. Kurt kissed him back, entwining his arms around his neck as Blaine's arms encircled his waist. Blaine murmured against his lips and Kurt deepened the kiss, not worrying about going slow and making it last any more. He needed to be as close to Blaine as possible, to hold him so close that one body couldn't be deciphered from the other.

Eventually, the broke away for air. "I owe you everything, you know that, don't you?" Blaine smiled up at him, his voice breaking a bit. His eyes were glistening and Kurt knew he was trying his best not to cry. "You saved me from myself. You made me see that everything I thought I was was a lie, that everything about my life was fake and ridiculous. You made me fall in love with you and you made me a better person."

"You would have gotten there by yourself," Kurt smiled. "You know, eventually."

"Yeah, when it was too late," Blaine said. "I just want you to know how much that means to me—how much _you _mean to me."

Kurt nodded, smiling, unable to stop the tears from trickling out of his eyes and down his face.

"I don't want you to worry about me out there," Blaine went on. "I mean, I know you can't help worrying, but I just want you to concentrate on you. I'll be okay, I will."

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked, sounding choked. "Because if you're not—"

"I'm sure," Blaine nodded. "I'll find myself. I'll be okay."

"Good," Kurt said, exhaling. "I want you to be okay."

"Guess this is it," Blaine uttered. "You'd better get going."

"Will you come upstairs?"

Blaine looked unsure. "I don't—"

"Please, Blaine?" Kurt pleaded. "I want yours to be the last face I see before I leave this damned place."

"Okay," Blaine nodded.

Kurt reached down and took Blaine's wrist in his hands. He lifted it up and pushed back his sleeve, revealing the bracelet. He held his own wrist up, too. "What about these?"

"I'll never take mine off," Blaine said. "If you want to, that's okay, I'll unders—"

"Never taking it off," Kurt ensured him. "Not ever."

Blaine smiled and it made Kurt's heart contract a bit. He saw a single tear slip out of Blaine's eye then. "I said I wouldn't do this," Blaine uttered, wiping at his eyes.

"It's okay if you do," Kurt said. "I won't mind."

"I don't want you to feel bad about going."

"I'll feel bad whether you cry or not."

"Are you nervous?" Blaine smiled, grabbing Kurt's hand.

"Really nervous," Kurt answered.

"Don't be," Blaine grinned. "You're going to be amazing. This is the beginning. You're going to make it huge."

"I'll try my best," Kurt smiled, tears still falling.

Blaine reached up and caught them with his thumb. "I have faith in you," he told him. "You're amazing."

"So are you," Kurt replied. "You'll call me if you need me, right?"

"I said I would."

"Just making sure," Kurt said.

"This is it," Blaine said, then. "This is goodbye, for real."

"Blaine—"

Kurt didn't get to finish his sentence, because Blaine was kissing him again, gently this time, his mouth moving slowly, taking Kurt's breath away, making his heart race in his chest, wildly, his body quivering a little. He pulled back then and Blaine's face was tear stained and they didn't say another word. Blaine gave him a small nod, then stood up and outstretched a hand to him.

Kurt took it and they went upstairs.

* * *

><p>"Promise me you'll watch him," Kurt whispered in Burt's ear while he hugged him goodbye.<p>

"You know I will," Burt whispered back.

They broke apart and Kurt sniffed a bit, wiping away his tears.

"You call me when you get there," Burt said, giving Kurt a pat on the back.

"I will, dad," Kurt told him.

"You, too, Finn," Carole said to Finn, who was standing by the door.

"I'll make sure he does," Kurt assured her, then he turned to look at Blaine. He smiled. "Come here, you," Kurt said and he went closer to him.

Blaine wasn't really smiling, nor was he really frowning, he just looked sort of neutral standing there. Kurt pulled him into a hug and he heard Blaine sighing against his body. He stopped trying not to cry then and just let the tears flow freely. He thought Blaine might be crying, too, because he was shaking a little in his arms.

"We'll never really be through, you know that, don't you?" Kurt asked, quietly.

"I like to think that's true," Blaine answered, tightening his grip on Kurt, like he didn't want to let go.

"It is true," Kurt told him.

"I love you, pretty boy," Blaine whispered, very quietly into his ear.

"I love you, too," Kurt whispered back. "I always will."

"Me, too," Blaine said. "You have to let me go, Kurt."

"I can't."

"You have to," Blaine said. "Let go, baby."

Kurt sobbed in his arms as Blaine pulled gently away. "Go on, get out of here," he said, smiling, but Kurt could tell he was just trying not to break. He held onto his hand for another few moments.

"Don't forget," Blaine said, quietly.

"Never," Kurt told him, his heart twisting in his chest.

Then he let go.

* * *

><p>Blaine watched as the car pulled out of the driveway, Kurt's bright blue eyes, watery and glistening, still staring at him as it went. Blaine stood next to Burt and Carole and watched Kurt go, watched as the car got smaller and smaller and the boy with the bright blue eyes that meant more to him than anything else in the world, got farther and farther away. The car disappeared into the distance and so did the boy, and it wasn't until Blaine went back to Kurt's room and buried his head in the pillows, breathing in his scent, his heart aching painfully in his chest, that he allowed himself to really and truly cry, because he would never get to hold him ever again and nothing else in the whole entire world could have hurt more.<p>

That was it, now. He had nothing left.

Blaine was completely and utterly alone.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry, that was really horrible of me. I'll try update tomorrow. After this one, two more chapters and we're done :( Let me know what you thought :)<strong>


	36. Chapter 36

**I own nothing. Hi. So, this is the second last chapter and my heart hurts. Seriously. It does. Also, I'm sorry for making people cry with the last chapter, I'm still mopping up tears from my tumblr ask box lol. Anyway, here is the song youtube(.)com/watch/?v=ODgdEU-HiSo&feature=fvst **

* * *

><p>The<em> silence isn't so bad,<br>'Til I look at my hands and feel sad,  
>'Cause the spaces between my fingers<br>Are right where yours fit perfectly.  
>...<em>

_And I'll forget the world that I knew,  
>But I swear I won't forget you,<br>Oh, if my voice could reach  
>Back through the past,<br>I'd whisper in your ear,  
>Oh, darling, I wish you were here.<em>

**Chapter 36:**

"Dad," Kurt said, once Burt had picked up the phone.

"Hey, Kurt," Burt said, happily. "How's it going?"

"Fine," he said. "Where is he?"

Burt sighed. "In your room."

"Does he _ever_ come out?"

Every time Kurt called, Burt told him Blaine was in his room. He refused to speak to him, never picked up the phone and Kurt hadn't heard a word from him since he had left two weeks earlier.

"When he gets hungry," Burt said. "And when he goes to work."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Can't you trick him out? Make him think someone else is on the phone and then he'll be forced to talk to me?"

"Kurt," Burt said in a warning tone.

"Please, dad?" Kurt begged. "I just need to know he's okay."

"He's fine, I told you," Burt assured him. "Stop worrying."

"Just try for me," Kurt urged. "It's important."

Kurt had tried texting Blaine, telling him needed desperately to speak with him, but it was like Blaine knew. He'd gotten no reply.

"Fine," Burt sighed, tiredly, then shouted. "Blaine! Phone!"

A few minutes later, Kurt heard Blaine's muffled voice on the other end.

"I know it's him," he said. "I won't talk to him."

"Dad, put me on loud speaker."

Burt put him on loud speaker and Kurt suddenly felt nervous, but he had to talk to Blaine. He needed to.

"You asshole," were the first words he said. "Do you know what date it is?"

"I'll just leave you guys alone," Burt said, quietly and Kurt heard a shuffling sound, then a door closing. Now it was just him and Blaine.

"I know what date it is," Blaine said, flatly. It was good to hear his voice again. "Which is why I'm hanging up and going back downstairs."

"Don't you dare!" Kurt said, quickly. "I've been calling you every single day since I left."

"And I told you I wasn't going to pick up."

"You said you'd pick up if I said I needed you," Kurt pointed out.

"Yeah, but I knew why you needed to talk to me so badly today," Blaine shot back. "And I don't want to talk to you."

"You're being ridiculous," Kurt told him.

"Maybe," he mumbled. "But it's better this way."

There was complete silence for a few seconds, then Kurt spoke, "It doesn't feel like a year, does it?"

"Yes and no," Blaine said, quietly. "I feel like I just met you yesterday, but sometimes I feel like I've known you forever."

Kurt smiled, sadly. He had missed this, the way Blaine spoke, the things he said that Kurt never expected to hear him say. He wished he wouldn't shut him out, wished he would give in and talk to him again.

"Talk to me for today?" Kurt asked. "In celebration of us knowing each other a whole year?"

"I don't thi—"

"Please, Blaine?" Kurt said. "Please pick up the phone."

There was silence again, then Kurt heard more shuffling, a loud bleeping sound, followed by the faint sound of breathing.

"I'm listening."

"I miss you."

"Don't say that," Blaine said.

Kurt sat back on his bed with a sigh. "Why not?" he asked. "It's true."

"What's it like out there?" Blaine asked, as if Kurt hadn't even spoken. "I mean, are you getting on okay?"

"Yeah," Kurt nodded, forgetting that Blaine couldn't see him. "It's different to high school, obviously, but I'm doing okay. What about you?"

"I'm fine."

"Really."

"Yeah," Blaine said. "Look, after this, can you just not call me any more? I know that sounds horrible, but I can't—Kurt, I just can't, okay?"

Kurt realised it was the first time he had said his name, the word sounding so different coming from his lips, to how it sounded when others said it.

"I'm hurting, too, you know," Kurt said, quietly. "I know you think this is all about you, Blaine and I know you're going through a lot, but this is far from easy for me. So, stop acting like you're the only one affected by this."

Blaine was quiet, then said, "I'm sorry." Kurt said nothing, hoping he would go on. "I just think we're better off like this," he told Kurt. "I just don't think it's a good idea to hold on to something that just—just doesn't mean anything any more."

Kurt felt his heart breaking into tiny pieces inside his chest. He was caught between wanting to bury his head in his pillows and sob and wanting to pick up the ugly lamp that he kept meaning to get rid of, which had been left in the apartment and flinging it at the wall.

"Doesn't mean any.. Okay," he said. "Okay, fine, Blaine. Fuck you, too."

And then he hung up.

And instantly regretted it.

* * *

><p><strong>1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: KURT.<strong>

_I'm sorry. Don't shut me out, not today._

Blaine groaned and threw his phone to the side, then grabbed a pillow and put it over his face. It was useless, it smelled like Kurt. Every where he looked, it reminded him of Kurt and all he wanted to do at this point was forget, because even though that was awful and a really stupid thing to do, it would be much easier.

He wished he could just go back to the beginning and change everything, because his entire life seemed to have fallen down around him and there was no fixing that, even if it had all been consequences of him doing the right thing.

The fact was that doing the right thing sucked sometimes.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't hear from Blaine until a week before Christmas (technically untrue, because he had gotten a simple 'Happy Birthday' on his birthday, but nothing more than that), though it wasn't for the want of trying. Kurt had called him almost every day, to no avail. His heart leapt inside his chest when he saw Blaine's name showing up on his phone with 'incoming call' above it.<p>

"Blaine," he said, a little too eagerly, but he didn't care, Blaine was calling.

"Don't," Blaine said, quietly. "I just want to know if you're coming home for winter break, so that I can make arrangements to be some place else."

Kurt's heart sank and he frowned. "Are you serious?"

He had been counting on winter break as a means of getting Blaine to speak to him. He had planned it out in his mind. If Blaine saw him face to face, maybe he would change his mind, realise he still loved him. Apparently that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Yes," was all Blaine said.

"I.." Kurt paused. "I'll stay here."

"Don't stay there because of me."

"I'm not." He was.

"Okay," Blaine said, obviously not wanting to have to talk to Kurt any longer than was necessary. He paused and Kurt wondered if he had hung up, but he hadn't. "Are you... How have you, um, been?"

"Okay," Kurt said, calmly, ignoring the urge to shout at him for not speaking to him for months. "I.. You? Are you okay?"

"I guess."

"Blaine—"

"Don't," Blaine said, sounding weary. Kurt wondered if he was getting enough sleep.

Kurt didn't want to get mad and have Blaine hang up on him, because it was possible he would wait another three months to speak to him again and that was the last thing he needed.

"There was a time when you loved me, you know," Kurt uttered.

He heard Blaine sigh and he knew he wanted to say something, but he didn't. He just hung up.

Ten minutes later, Kurt's phone vibrated on the coffee table.

**1 NEW MESSAGE FROM: BLAINE.**

_I still do._

* * *

><p>"Blaine!"<p>

Blaine sat up and rubbed his eyes. He shuffled off of Kurt's bed and climbed the stairs, like they were some huge obstacle that he could barely manage. When he reached the top, he found Burt standing there.

"Hey, kid," he said. "Dinner."

Blaine gave him a half-smile. He felt awful being such a burden on Burt, who was supposed to be enjoying his alone time. He had offered to pay rent, but Burt wouldn't allow it. He said he was happy to do it. It amazed Blaine that there were people like this in the world, good people who expected nothing in return for their kindness. The world needed far more Burt Hummels.

They sat down at the table and began eating and Burt was watching him carefully.

"So, Blaine," he said after a while. "Have you heard from Kurt?"

"No."

"He said he called you."

"He did," Blaine affirmed. "A few times." A couple hundred, at least. "I just—I can't..."

"No, I understand," Burt said, taking a sip from his glass of water. "I just don't think you're doing yourself any favours not talkin' to him."

Blaine didn't say anything, just moved his peas around his plate with his fork.

"Have you spoken to your parents?"

Blaine looked up at that. "No," he said, truthfully. "I haven't heard from them."

"Don't you think you should contact them? Let them know you're okay?" Burt asked. "I bet they're worried about you."

"You think.. No," Blaine shook his head. "No, if they were worried they would have found me by now."

"Sometimes people are too stubborn to go looking," Burt shrugged. "Maybe you should put your own stubbornness aside and work things out."

Blaine stared down at his mashed potato and had a strong feeling that Burt wasn't only referring to the situation with his parents.

* * *

><p>"Kurt, put the phone down," Rachel said, walking into his apartment.<p>

Kurt looked up at her and frowned at her for coming in unannounced and then for how she was dressed. Her white sweater had a pink deer silhouette on it and he looked away before he could analyse her lower half.

"Where's Finn?"

"Upstairs," she said, sitting down. She grabbed a magazine off the table and flicked through it. "He's in the shower."

Kurt nodded and hit the green button on his phone again, redialling Blaine's number.

"He won't pick up, you know."

"Shut up, Rachel."

"Don't take it out on me!"

"I can if I like, you're in my apartment," Kurt retorted.

Rachel smiled. "You're too uptight," she said. "Go out and find a nice boy who'll answer your calls, Kurt."

He wondered at what point he was going to have to give up and do just that. Kurt rolled his eyes and redialled.

He wasn't giving up on him, not yet.

* * *

><p>Blaine hung up his Lima Bean apron and said goodbye to the girl who had just started her shift (Blaine thought her name might be Sandra, but he wasn't certain). He pulled the front door opened and walked out into the brisk January air. He pulled his jacket across his chest and shivered, before turning to walk towards his car, but something stopped him in his tracks.<p>

Blaine watched as his dad stopped his car across the parking lot, then turned to the person next to him, said something, then got out of the car. Blaine walked quickly away from the coffee shop, so that his dad couldn't see him and watched as he went inside the Lima Bean. Blaine looked over at his dad's car, hoping to see his mom sitting there, but he knew in his heart that it was going to be someone else, of the female sex and probably someone he did not know. He was right. The woman sitting in the passenger's seat was younger than his mom, maybe late twenties, early thirties. She had red hair and beyond that, Blaine couldn't see much more. He felt his blood boiling, because although he had been aware for a long time that his dad was sleeping around, he had never actually seen it firsthand. He wanted to run inside and scream at his dad, tell him to go home to his wife, but Blaine figured he would get fired and his job was the only thing that really got him out of the house any more. Instead, he clenched his fists, bit his tongue and went to his car. He got inside and drove back to Kurt's house.

When he got there, he found a note on the fridge from Burt, saying he had to stay late at the garage, but to eat whatever was there. Blaine made a sandwich, ate half of it, then went back down to Kurt's room and lay on the bed for a half an hour. Kurt called twice during that thirty minutes, Blaine didn't pick up. He started to get restless then, because he kept replaying all the bad things over and over in his head. Finally, he got up, groaned and left the house.

* * *

><p>Blaine felt a little dizzy sitting there, at the back of Breadstix. It was freezing out, he really should have just gone home and slept. He sat there, sipping his second (at least he thought it was his second) can of beer, ignoring the employees who stared at him with disapproval when they came out to put out the garbage.<p>

"Don't you have a home to go to?" one of the guys asked.

Blaine sat back against the wall and sighed. He couldn't really remember. "Have you ever lost something you could never get back?" he slurred. The guy raised an eyebrow at him. "No, really. Have you?"

"I.." the guy looked confused. "I lost my keys this morning?" He made it a question.

"Love is like.." Blaine's head was pounding. What was he even saying any more? "Like.. Yeah. Love is like garbage, man."

"Okay.. I've got to g—"

"I mean, it doesn't start out like garbage," Blaine rambled on. "It starts out good, y'know? Then it's gone. It ends up in a bin and then it's crushed and it just—just rots away."

The guy looked at Blaine as if he had three heads.

"Well," Blaine said thoughtfully, taking another sip of his can. "Maybe it's not really like garbage.."

"Alrighty then," the guy said, slowly. "I'll be going. Have a good life, bro." And with that he disappeared back inside the restaurant. Blaine laughed to himself. He didn't need company. He needed more alcohol and maybe some jelly beans. Jelly beans would be good right now.

_"Anderson?"_

Blaine turned and saw a familiar face staring at him. "Go.. Go home, Kenny. I don't like you." He hated Kenny. He wanted to stand up and empty his beer over his head, but that would be a waste of beer.

"Dude, you're a mess."

"Screw you."

"I offered to let you and you turned me down," Kenny smirked. "The offer no longer stands. Besides, you're too short for me, it would never work out. What are you doing anyway?"

"Having a party," Blaine smiled to himself. This was the best party he had ever thrown. People were so overrated. Solo parties. Why hadn't he thought of this years ago? "It's my birthday."

"Oh. Well, happy birthday, then. Blaine," Kenny said, sitting down next to him on the cold, hard concrete. "Dude, go home."

"I don't have a home."

"I thought you were staying at Hummel's."

"I am?" Blaine asked, grinning. "Cool. I should say thanks to Burt for letting me stay, right? He's, like, the nicest guy alive, seriously. Have you met him? Man's a saint. Hey, do you have any jelly beans?"

"Uh, no," Kenny said, looking amused. "I was just picking up some lasagne for Puck's mom. Do you need a ride?"

"No, I lost my bike. And my dad didn't take off the back wheels yet!"

"He didn't take off the.. Okay." Kenny shook his head. "Wow. How much have you had?"

"Oh!" Blaine sat up straight. "My phone's ringing! Where.. Ah, here it is! Hello? Helloooooo?"

* * *

><p>"Blaine?" Kurt said, in surprise. He hadn't expected him to pick up. "Are you.. Is everything okay? You sound sort of—"<p>

"Kurt!" Blaine said, excitedly. "Kurt, is that you? Kurt, please come home. I don't want to sleep alone any more. It's too cold."

He was drunk. Kurt sighed and fell back against the couch. He had been hoping Blaine was staying away from alcohol, because it would get him into trouble. Also, he had hoped Blaine had picked up because he wanted to, not because him being drunk made him forget he was ignoring Kurt.

"Blaine, where are you?"

"In the Hundred Acre Wood, Christopher Robin!" Blaine told him.

Kurt would have laughed had circumstances been different, but he was far too concerned for that. "Blaine," Kurt said, trying to remain calm. "What do you see around you?"

"Walls," Blaine told him, happily. "Walls and—garbage. So much garbage. It smells really bad. I wish you were here."

Kurt couldn't think where Blaine might be, because that didn't give much away. "Um, okay," he said, carefully. "Blaine, what else do you see?"

"Kenny," Blaine said and Kurt widened his eyes. "Go away, Kenny! Kurt and I don't want you here!"

Kurt heard a muffled voice on the other end. "Blaine," he said, then. "Can you hand the phone to Kenny for a second?"

"No," Blaine said, sounding uppity. "I want to talk to you."

"It's only for a minute, okay?" Kurt soothed. "Give the phone to Kenny and we can talk again in a sec, okay?"

"Fine."

There was a shuffling sound, then Kenny spoke, "Hey, Hummel," he said and Kurt could picture his smirking face, his dark eyes filled with amusement.

"Where are you guys?" Kurt asked, ignoring his flirty tone.

"I found your boy outside Breadstix, sitting amongst the garbage cans. Out of his mind drunk," Kenny chuckled. "He probably doesn't even know his own name right now."

"Fuck," Kurt whispered. "Can you take him back to my house?"

"I've got to get home, Humm—"

"You sort of owe me a favour, Kenneth," Kurt pointed out. "I had bruised ribs for weeks because of you. Now pick him up, put him in your car and take him to my house."

"God, _fine_, Hummel," Kenny groaned.

"Put him back on once you've got him in the car."

Kurt waited then and it was about five minutes later that he heard Blaine's voice on the other end of the phone. He heard a door slamming and a car starting up.

"Kurt?" Blaine said, sounding sleepy. "Kurt, are you there? Kurt?"

"Shh," Kurt said, quietly. "I'm here, Blaine. I'm here."

"Kurt, I miss you," Blaine told him and he didn't sound excited any more. He sounded tired and sad. "I just—I want you to come home and love me again."

Kurt frowned and he felt his chest aching a little. "I miss you, too," Kurt told him. "I miss you every single day."

"I just love you so much, baby," Blaine told him, emphasising the 'o' sound in 'so'. "I just—I love you and I can't stop. Why don't you love me any more?"

"Jesus Christ, Anderson," Kurt heard Kenny say. He rolled his eyes and ignored him.

"Blaine," Kurt said, softly. He felt as if his heart was breaking inside his chest. "I do love you. I do, I promise."

"Then why are you so far away?" Blaine asked, with a sigh.

"I have to be," Kurt told him. "Blaine, look—"

"What the fuck, Anderson?" Kenny said, loudly. "Are you _crying?_"

Kurt felt helpless, because he wanted to pick Blaine up in his arms and hold him until he was okay again. He didn't know what to do.

"No! Shut up, Kenny!" Blaine said.

"Ignore him, Blaine," Kurt said. "Ignore him and talk to me, okay?"

"I miss your eyes, Kurt," Blaine said, sadly. "I miss holding your hand and looking at the stars with you and kissing you and making you laugh."

"I miss all that, too," Kurt told him. "Hey, happy birthday, by the way. I tried calling earlier today."

"Remember last year on my birthday Rachel gave me a Build-a-Bear voucher?" Blaine said, sounding a little brighter. "I never used that..."

"I remember," Kurt smiled a bit. "I told you not to let the date expire on that thing."

"I know," Blaine said. "Silly me." Kurt laughed a bit. "Hey, Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"You really still love me?"

"More than ever," Kurt told him, truthfully. "You're kind of breaking my heart, here, Blaine. I wish you'd answer my calls."

"I want to."

"You should," Kurt urged. "It hurts not talking to you."

"It hurts me, too," Blaine told him. "I love you, baby."

"Love you, too, babe," Kurt smiled, but he felt like his heart was being torn from his chest.

"Love you so much," Blaine told him, voice slurred. "When do I get to see you again?"

"You'd want to see me again?" Kurt asked. He knew it was the drink talking, but it still meant something. It had to.

"You're all I ever want to see."

"Good God," Kurt heard Kenny say, then, "Ouch! Jesus, Anderson! Your elbows are pointy! Jeez!"

Kurt smiled. "Serves him right," he said. "Hey, Blaine?"

"Yeah?" Blaine said. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I know," Kurt nodded again. "I love you, too. Listen, when you go home you go straight to bed, okay? I'll give you a call tomorrow. Will you pick up?"

"Yeah," Blaine told him. "My neighbour has a pick up truck."

Kurt scoffed a little. "That's great, Blaine," he told him. "Are you almost home?"

"Kenny, that's Kurt's house!"

"No, it's the next one," Kenny told Blaine. "Now will you stop tugging on my sleeve?"

"Kurt. We're at your house now," Blaine told him and Kurt heard the engine dying. "Kenny, let me go! I don't want your filthy mitts on me! I have a boyfriend, stop that!"

"Blaine, he's just going to take you inside, okay?" Kurt told Blaine, secretly marvelling in the fact that he was still referring to him as his boyfriend. "Relax."

A few minutes later, Blaine was talking again. "Hi, pretty boy."

"Hey, Blaine," Kurt smiled, his heart doing a little flip. He had missed Blaine calling him that. "Where are you?"

"In your room," Blaine apprised him. "I'm on your bed and it smells like you. I wish you were here."

"I wish I was there, too," Kurt said and he meant it, because as much as he liked New York, Blaine was still very much home to him. "Get into bed and I'll stay on until you go asleep, okay?"

Kurt waited until the shuffling sounds had ended and Blaine was breathing on the other end again, before he spoke. "In bed?"

"Mm hmm."

"Close your eyes."

"I did."

"Good," Kurt smiled. "You don't have to say anything, just listen to me, all right?"

"Mm hmm," Blaine said, again. "Kurt."

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to be like this forever," he said, quietly.

"Like what?"

"Lonely," Blaine said, voice sounding a bit choked. "My mom and dad think there's something wrong with me. Maybe there is. Is there something wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Blaine," Kurt assured him. "Trust me."

"Okay," Blaine said. "But no one cares about me. I'm nothing."

"I care," Kurt said, quickly. "You're everything to me."

"I love you."

"And I love you," Kurt told him, feeling sick. Blaine sounded as if he was just giving up.

"What happens when you stop?"

"I'm not going to stop."

"Yes, you will," Blaine said. "Everyone does."

"Not me," Kurt said, feeling a bit panicked. "Blaine, are you—"

"I love you," Blaine said, softly and within seconds he was snoring quietly. Kurt listened to him there for a long time, before he felt his own eyes closing.

"I love you, too," he whispered, finally, then hung up and went to bed, unsure of just how he should be feeling. For one, he had finally spoken to Blaine and he still loved him, but Blaine was breaking and he couldn't do anything about it.

Blaine was torn and Kurt was helpless, but they loved each other and that had to count for something, didn't it? Kurt hoped so.

* * *

><p>"Hi," Kurt said on the other end of the phone.<p>

It had taken Blaine half the day to pluck up the courage and call him to apologise for the night before.

"Hi," he replied. "I'm, um, sorry about last night."

"I'm not," Kurt said. "It's the first time you've talked to me properly since I left."

"I was drunk."

"Which means you were telling the truth," Kurt pointed out.

"It doesn't change anything," Blaine said. "I still don't want to talk to you."

"That's a lie," Kurt said and Blaine sighed. "You can cut the crap. I know what you're doing. Not picking up my calls doesn't mean how you feel is going to go away." Blaine didn't say anything, because Kurt was right. Kurt was always right. "Why can't you just admit you still love me and talk to me like a normal person?"

"Because I'm scared that if we talk daily, you'll eventually find someone else and then you won't want to talk to me any more and then it'll just hurt," Blaine admitted. "I don't know if you've noticed, but my life isn't exactly fun and games at the moment. It hasn't been for almost a year now. I'm done getting myself into situations that leave me stranded. So this is the final call. If you're in severe trouble, by all means, call me, I'll be here. I always will, but other than that, I can't do it. I can't."

"So, what, you're just going to hang up on me now?" Blaine stayed silent, because he had been about to hang up. "It's hilarious how you claim you love me so much, yet the second I tell you how I feel, you just hang up like it means nothing to you. Go ahead, Blaine, hang up on me. Run away. That's what you've been doing for years, isn't it?"

Blaine didn't say anything.

"Sorry," Kurt said, after a few seconds. "That wasn't fair. I just.. I miss you, okay? I miss talking to you and I understand your concerns, I really do, but I need you to understand how much this hurts me, okay? I don't know what to do, Blaine. I want to talk to you. Okay, if you really don't want to talk to me, then don't, I'll respect that and I won't call any more, but if it hurts you as much as it hurts me, then just pick up the phone, okay?"

"I can't," Blaine groaned. "Can we just leave it now? I just want to move on with my life."

"So, that's it?" Kurt asked and Blaine wished he could just go climb into bed and sleep. He couldn't deal with this any more.

"Kurt," Blaine said, carefully. "I'm not as strong as you. I don't know how to deal with this. I just need time, okay?"

"Okay," Kurt said and his voice had softened. "I'm sorry. I just.. I miss you."

"Me, too," Blaine told him. "But I'm going to hang up now, okay?"

"Fine," Kurt sighed. "Before you go, I love you. I just need you to know that. You can hang up now."

Blaine paused, his stomach whirling. "I love you, too."

He hung up and closed his eyes, his heart hammering painfully in his chest. But then his phone rang again. He looked down at the screen and his eyes widened as round as saucers when e saw the caller I.D.

_**Incoming call: Dad.**_

Blaine took a deep breath and pressed the receive button. He raised the phone to his ear and spoke, voice a little hoarse.

"Hello?"

* * *

><p><strong>So, basically, there is one more chapter after this and I'm adding the field scene that someone asked me to write all the way back in chapter 14 to the end, too. After that, I don't know. I was thinking about a sequel, because a few people have asked about that, or else a whole new fic. Tell me what you think anyway and I'll let you know (providing you actually want to know). And I will stop talking now. Also, I'm just putting the link to the fanart etc. that people have done here: likechildreninafairytale(.)tumblr(.)comtagged/sideways **

**Trying my best to get to reviews, but I've let them pile up, so I'm going to try answer the ones with questions first and then see what I can do, but I read them all and I appreciate every single one of you. Thank you for reading. I probably won't get the next part posted until Monday or Tuesday, because I want to get that field scene done, too. Let me know what you think :)**


	37. Chapter 37

**Okay, this is it, the final chapter. I'm sorry it's late, I think I just really didn't want to finish it lol. The field scene from chapter 14 is in here, too. I'll write a little author's not e at the end, rather than here. The song at the start of this is here: www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=brYl6UwOBmM. That's the live version, because the real one is more upbeat and stuff, but the lyrics fit with this. And it's one of my favourite songs ever lol. Okay, here we go, last chapter :')**

* * *

><p><em>It's been about a year now,<br>__Ain't seen or hear from you,  
><em>_I've been missing you crazy,  
><em>_How do you, how do you sleep?_

_I found a letter you wrote me,  
><em>_It still smells just like you,  
><em>_Damn those sweet memories,  
><em>_How do you, how do you sleep?_

**Chapter 37:**

"My dad wants me to go home and talk with him," Blaine told Burt after he had hung up. He was still shaking a little, his fists clenched to stop himself from crumbling.

"Well," Burt said. "Is that a good thing?"

Blaine shrugged. "No idea," he said. "He says to wait until he has time, so I don't know when that will be."

Burt nodded. "At least it's something, right?"

"I guess."

Burt smiled, gave him a pat on the shoulder, then left the room. Blaine wished he could call Kurt and tell him about it, but he was sticking to his word. He would do this by himself.

* * *

><p>"Do you want me to go with you, Blaine?" Burt asked, following Blaine out into the hall. "I can leave the garage for an hour, or so."<p>

"No, it's fine," Blaine smiled, gratefully. "Thank you, though. I'll be okay."

"Okay," Burt looked sceptical as he opened the front door. "Call if you need anything."

"I will. Thanks, Burt," Blaine said. "I'll see you later."

"Good luck."

Blaine walked outside and shut the door behind him, then got in his car and headed for his parents' house. It had been three weeks since his father had called him and said he wanted to talk. He'd called him the night before saying he wanted to see him today and Blaine said he'd be there after his shift at the coffee shop.

Blaine had no idea what he could possibly want, but he was about to find out.

* * *

><p>"Your mother wants to talk with you," Blaine's dad said, flatly when he opened the front door. He didn't even really look at Blaine, simply opened the door, gave him a look of disapproval, then spoke. "She's in the living room. I'll be in the kitchen."<p>

Blaine watched as his dad walked away. He stood there for a couple of heartbeats, then walked inside and shut the door. He headed into the living room and found his mother sitting on the sofa, studying her nails.

"Um, mom?" Blaine said, quietly and she looked up, quickly.

"Oh, Blaine," she said. "Sit down."

Blaine sat down facing her. They both just sat there staring at one another for a few moments, then his mom spoke. "Are you still...?" she trailed off, but Blaine knew what she was asking.

"Am I still gay?" he said. "Yes, mom, I'm still gay. Always have been, always will be."

"Oh," she said, looking disappointed. Blaine was used to that look by now, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. "What a shame."

He felt sick, sitting there in the familiar room, the room where there had been more fights than happy times. The room in which his dad had bruised his ribs so badly when he was fourteen, that he couldn't even sit up properly for over a week. He shuddered at the memory and all he wanted to do was leave there and never go back.

"Was there something you wanted?" Blaine asked, finally.

"No," she told him. "I thought that by now you'd have realised how wrong it is, what you're doing."

Blaine rolled his eyes, almost instinctively. "There's nothing wrong with me being gay, mom," Blaine said, standing up. "What is wrong, however, is how I've had to live for the past year or so. Nice talking to you—actually, no. It hasn't been nice talking to you. It's been the opposite of nice. So, good luck, mom. Thanks for nothing."

Blaine walked out leaving her sitting there and went into the kitchen, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. It was time to face his dad now. He found him sitting at the dinner table with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Have a seat, Blaine," he said, not showing any emotion. "I have a proposition for you."

Blaine sat down.

* * *

><p>"Are you oka—"<p>

"I don't want to talk about it right now," Blaine said, rushing past Burt and heading towards the stairs. Burt was watching him, face twisted into a concerned expression, his eyes wide and filled with worry.

"Blaine, is everyth—"

"Can I tell you about it later?" Blaine asked, stomach aching. "Please?"

Burt eyed him curiously for a moment, then nodded. "All right," he said. "Shout if you need anything."

Blaine gave him a small nod, then continued on down the stairs. He shut the door behind him and collapsed down onto Kurt's bed and buried his head in the pillows, breathing in his scent, wanting more than anything to have him there to hold him and tell him it would be okay.

He almost did it, almost called Kurt. He took his phone from his pocket and brought his number to the screen. His shaking thumb hovered over the green button, but he stopped himself, because he didn't want to burden Kurt with his sob story.

Instead, he took the pillow in his arms and held it close to him. He closed his eyes and cried himself to sleep, because things had just gotten a hundred times worse.

* * *

><p>"Dad?" Kurt answered his phone. Kurt always worried when his dad called because he always imagined the worst. Especially since Burt had had heart problems. "Is everything okay?"<p>

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Burt assured him and Kurt sat back, sighing with relief. "I just thought I should give you a call and tell you about Blaine."

Kurt's heart sank. He hadn't heard from Blaine, still. He hadn't stopped calling, in hopes that he would eventually pick up, even if it was just to tell him to leave him alone. "Blaine?" he asked, a little breathlessly. "Is he—"

"It's nothing fatal, Kurt, calm down," Burt said, but Kurt couldn't help it. He was worried. "It's just that.. Have you talked with him?"

Kurt sighed. "No," he said. "He doesn't pick up. Ever."

"Well," Burt said, sighing a little, too. "His dad asked to meet him a few days ago." Kurt sat up. "He hasn't really come out of the room since. I've started sending his meals down."

Kurt caught his bottom lip between his teeth and shook his head. "Can't you make him tell you what happened?" he asked, voice a little high, though he knew no one could make Blaine do anything by force. "He won't talk to me, so I can't ask. Dad—"

"Kurt," Burt said, calmly. "Kurt, calm down. I'll try talk to him again later. I just thought you'd want to know."

Kurt sat back and shut his eyes, exhaling, his mind racing with all these crazy thoughts and bad things and speculations. He opened his eyes again, then and said, "Do you think he hates me, dad?"

"Hates you?" Burt exclaimed. "Are you nuts? The kid's head over heels for you, Kurt. He's just going through a hard time. He'll come round."

"You think so?" Kurt uttered, quietly, hopefully.

"I hear how he talks about you, Kurt," Burt said, softly. "I know so."

* * *

><p>Blaine shut off the computer when he heard a soft rap on Kurt's bedroom door. He got up, stretched a bit and went to open the door. He found Carole Hudson standing there, a concerned look on her face.<p>

"Blaine, honey," she said, tilting her head a little. "I—I was just wondering if you wanted to come upstairs, instead of being stuck down here on your own?"

Blaine knew that Burt had called her and asked her to come over, just to see if she could get any response from him. He twisted his mouth into a smile.

"Um, thanks," he said. "I just—yes."

* * *

><p>"So, that's it?" Burt asked, after Blaine had told him everything that had happened with his parents. "It's—"<p>

"Over," Blaine nodded. "Totally and completely over."

Carole and Burt exchanged a blank look then and Blaine just sat there, breathing steadily. "Blaine," Carole said, finally. "You don't seem.. Well. Upset. Don't you think—"

"I'm done being upset over people who could give less than a crap about me," Blaine shook his head. "I've been stuck in this—this rut and I didn't know how to get out of it, but I see it now. I've figured it all out. Which is why I have to leave Ohio, leave all the bad things and the hatred and the accusing stares and the bad feelings that are here." He paused, trying to keep everything straight in his head. "Oh!" he said, suddenly. "Not you guys. You've been amazing. Without you, I would have lost every last ounce of faith in the world, in humanity. Thank you for everything."

Carole looked alarmed and Burt was staring at Blaine like he had just announced he was going to go skipping through town wearing nothing but his boxer shorts, throwing confetti and reciting Shakespeare sonnets.

"Blaine, where are you going to go?" Burt asked finally.

"I don't know yet," Blaine said, smiling. "I just need to leave."

"Will.. Will we ever see you again?" Carole asked, dramatically. Blaine could see now why Finn and Rachel made such a good couple.

The truth was, he didn't know. He assumed he would end up back in Ohio at some point, he just wasn't sure when or what the circumstances would be. He shrugged, still smiling and exhaled. "I have to do this. It's the only way to escape the past."

"You can't escape the past," Burt shook his head. "Not really. And what about Kurt?"

Blaine frowned, then. Kurt was the one thing he knew he couldn't ever really run away from. "I don't know," he muttered. "He's better off without me. I'll—I'll call him. Eventually. Let him know I'm okay. I just—This is for the best. I can feel it."

"When are you leaving?" Burt asked.

"Tomorrow."

* * *

><p>"You keep checking your watch," Burt noticed the next day at dinner. "Are you in that much of a rush to get out of here?"<p>

"No," Blaine said, quickly. "No, of course not. I'm waiting on a phone call."

"A phone call," Burt repeated, slowly.

Blaine nodded. "From my dad," he provided. "I did some thinking last night and I gave him a call. He said he'd call me back before five, let me know."

Burt laid his fork down and looked right at Blaine. "Let you know what?"

Blaine took a deep breath, exhaled, then looked up to meet Burt's eyes. "Okay," he said, carefully. "I was going to tell you after he called, but I guess now is as good a time as any."

"Okay."

* * *

><p>Kurt sat in the back corner of his English class, twirling his pen between his fingers and not listening to the lesson being given. He needed to get out of class so that he could call his dad again and ask how Blaine was doing. The last he had heard, Blaine still hadn't told Burt the full story. Kurt had tried calling every day, but to no avail. Blaine was impossible, but that didn't change the fact that he loved him.<p>

It didn't help that today was Valentine's day. Everywhere he looked there were paper hearts and cupid cut-outs and other incredibly cheesy, romantic objects. He sighed and looked at the clock again, willing the hands to move. He began to pack his things away quietly when it was two minutes before the end of class and then when the class was excused, Kurt leapt up out of his seat in a flash and headed for the door. When he was half-way down the hall, he heard a loud voice behind him.

"Kurt!" it said. "Kurt! Wait up!"

Kurt slowed, then turned to look for the person calling his name. He saw him then, his bright eyes and hair and crooked smile. Kurt waited until he reached him.

"Hey, Leo, what's up?" Kurt said, moving to the side, so as not to block the way.

"Can I ask you something really quickly?" Leo asked, pushing his dirty blonde hair out of his eyes. "It'll only take a sec."

Kurt's thumb ran over his phone in his pocket and he sighed quietly to himself. "Yeah," he told Leo. "Yeah, sure."

* * *

><p>Blaine stood in the elevator as it went upwards, stopping at every floor, even though he had only selected the second last one. He sighed and stood back against the mirrored wall, heart racing in his chest. He looked across at the mirror facing him. He looked okay. At least, he hoped he did. His eyes looked a little tired, but other than that he looked healthy.<p>

He hoped he was in the right place. He studied the scrap of paper he had in his pocket again, just to make sure, because it would have been insanely embarrassing if he had ended up in the wrong building.

It seemed to be the right one. He waited until the elevator came to a holt with a small ringing sound, then stepped outside onto the narrow, creme coloured corridor. He looked at the piece of paper one more time, shrugged, then began walking. He looked at the number on each door as he went, counting down until he came closer and closer. He stopped when he saw it and his heart beat sped up. This was it.

He took a deep breath, then went to take a step towards the door, but stopped, because the door in question opened inwards and two people were standing there. One walked out. He was tall, dark blonde hair, tanned, dressed casually. The other person stayed standing in the doorway, his bright blue eyes unlike any other, his hair perfectly styled, his skin smooth and pale as milk. Blaine's breath caught in his chest, as his heart ached a little. He was stuck to the spot.

Then the glistening eyes were on his and they were wider than ever and Blaine's heart skipped a beat and he felt dizzy. He could only stare back, his body incapable of doing anything else. He concentrated on those eyes, those bright, cyan eyes, so familiar and calming and mind blowing that they kept him grounded, kept him from hitting the ground, kept him from falling apart and from releasing those trapped tears and from blurting out all those words he had locked away inside of him.

He didn't drop his gaze from those baby blues as he took a deep breath, then stepped cautiously forward into the light. He held his breath until his name was spoken in an almost-whisper.

"_Blaine._"

And then he let himself breathe.

* * *

><p>"Blaine," Kurt breathed out, unable to believe his eyes. He had to reach out and hold onto the door handle to keep himself upright, because this was the last thing he had expected.<p>

Kurt realised then that he was holding his breath. He couldn't take his eyes off of Blaine, his golden eyes shining brighter than ever, his face perfect and gorgeous, his cute little dress sense still intact. Kurt's heart did a backflip in his chest and he felt nervous. He felt his body quivering a little as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Wh-what are y-you.." he trailed off, stammering. "Blaine," he said again, unable to say anything else, because other words would just come out an incoherent muddle.

Blaine spoke then, his voice sounding a little scratchy. "Hi," he said, quietly. "Did I.. Did I waste my time coming out here?"

Kurt stared at him blankly for a long time, then say Blaine's bright eyes flickering to Leo, who he had forgotten was there. Kurt's mouth developed into a small 'o' shape, then he tried to speak, but Leo got there first.

"Oh, you mean me!" he said, grinning at Blaine. "No, dude. Naw, I'm straight, man. Girlfriend's downstairs in the car. I was just borrowing some notes." He held up the notebook Kurt had just given him. "I was just going. Thanks, Kurt, see you Monday and hey," Leo smiled, walking by Blaine and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. "Nice meeting you. Later."

Kurt watched him go, then looked back at Blaine. His face looked a bit pale and he looked sort of tired, but he was still the same beautiful boy Kurt had left back in Ohio. He was looking at him now, his expression unreadable.

"Do you want to come inside?" Kurt said, because he couldn't think of what else to say. It was strange. They'd seen each other a little less than 6 months ago and they'd talked briefly once or twice, but Kurt felt nervous now, with Blaine standing there in front of him, his eyes locked on him, burning into him.

"Uh, yeah," Blaine said, shaking his head a bit. "Sure."

Kurt stood back and let Blaine in, thankful that he had tidied up the night before. Blaine glanced around the apartment as he followed Kurt into the small living space.

"It's very you," Blaine told him, then.

"That a good thing or a bad thing?" Kurt joked.

"Good," Blaine replied. "Definitely good."

Kurt smiled to himself as he walked into the small kitchen. "Want anything?" he asked. "I mean.. Did you just get here?"

"Uh, about an hour ago," Blaine nodded.

"Hungry?" Kurt asked. "Thirsty? Both?"

"Both," Blaine smiled a bit and Kurt's heart skipped a little. "But can we talk first?"

Kurt stopped moving and just looked at Blaine. "Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, we can do whatever you want."

Blaine outstretched a hand and Kurt looked down at it. "If you don't want to touch me, it's okay," Blaine nodded. "I'll understand."

Kurt didn't think twice, he simply reached out, grabbed Blaine's hand then tugged him forward and flung his arms around him. He heard Blaine sigh a bit against his body, his arms embracing Kurt, too. Kurt breathed in his scent, taking comfort in it, because God, he really missed this.

"God, I missed you so much," Kurt breathed, tightening his grasp.

"Me, too," Blaine replied.

Finally, they let go, slowly and when Kurt looked at Blaine, he saw that his face was twisted, like he was trying not to cry. "Um," Kurt cleared his throat. "You wanted to talk."

Blaine nodded. Kurt gestured for him to follow him to the sofa. They sat down beside one another, but not so that they were touching. "Okay," Blaine said. "Before we say anything else, I just need to know. Do you still love me?"

Kurt spoke immediately. "Of course, I still love you," he said. "I'll never stop."

"Okay," Blaine said, nodding, like he was trying to get everything into order inside his head. "Okay, good. I love you, too, by the way."

Kurt nodded, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.

"Okay, so," Blaine went on. "I talked to my dad a little while ago and um, basically, he wants me out of his life. He is literally buying me out of his life."

"Blaine, that's awful. I—"

"No, see, I thought so at first, too, but it's not," Blaine said. "Well, I mean, I guess it is in the sense that it's a horrible thing to do, but after I thought about it, I figured it's not all bad. I mean, I've got the upper hand here. If I step back into his life and act like he's my father, it destroys him—or he thinks it does, anyway. Basically, he's giving me huge—and when I say huge, I mean _huge_—amounts of cash, just to deny the fact that I'm his son. Don't look at me like that!" Kurt just stared. "I mean, yes, it's awful. It is, but he's never really been a proper father to me anyway, right? So this isn't all bad."

"I guess," Kurt nodded, understanding. "But doesn't it hurt?"

"At first, yes," Blaine admitted. "At first I thought everything had gotten worse. I thought my life was over and I locked myself away for a few days, but after a while, I thought about it and I realised that they obviously aren't losing sleep over me, so why should I lose sleep over them, you know? Why should I care about them when they don't care about me?

"So, I had this plan. I was going to leave Ohio. I had no idea where I was heading, or what I would do when I got there, I just knew I had to leave. And I told your dad and Carole and they were sort of on the fence about it, but I was determined. But I went to bed that night and I kept thinking about you. I mean, you're always on my mind, but I just.. I felt like there was something telling me to go to you. So I called my dad and I made a deal with him. I told him I'd agree to his little deal if he got me a last minute ticket out here. It's more expensive if you book late, obviously and he protested a little bit, but he gave in eventually. So I told your dad and he gave me your address and he seemed happy about it. Even helped me pack my things away. I came out here and I found you and.. I thought I had wasted my time, when I saw the guy, but I mean, that was just me being insecure and expecting the worst. Now, I just need to explain myself, make you understand everything."

"Okay," Kurt nodded. "But.. This is it? You're here for good?"

"If you want me," Blaine shrugged one shoulder. "If not, I'll understand."

"You're asking me if I want you?" Kurt asked, eyes wide. "Really? After I've called you every single day since I left? I thought you were the one who didn't want me."

"No way," Blaine said. "No, I've never stopped wanting you. Not for a second." Kurt said nothing, just let Blaine go on. "I understand if you can't forgive me, I'm not asking you to. I just want to explain what I was feeling. I was selfish and horrible to you. I'm sorry. I should have answered your calls, I should have spoken to you for as long as you wanted to speak. I was just.. I was scared and I didn't know what to do. I know that's no excuse, Kurt. I just felt like everything was slipping away, you know? And I thought if I kept in contact with you, you'd slip away eventually, too and then I'd be left with nothing at all. I mean, yeah, I was left with nothing anyway, but it would have hurt so much more to lose you to someone else. I know that's selfish and ridiculous, because I didn't think of what you might want. I should have known you still wanted me and part of me did know that, but I was still scared that how you felt about me would go away. I shouldn't have done what I did, Kurt. I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you," Kurt told him. "I can see where you were coming from and I get you've had a lot going on, so don't worry. You're here now, right?" Blaine gave him a small nod. "Where are your things?"

"Um, at a hotel," Blaine said. "I left them there before I came here."

"So, can we go get them?"

"W-what? Why?"

"Um, so we can move you in?" Kurt said. "Unless you don't want that, in which case, I understand, too. I get it's a lot of commitment, but—"

"You.. You'd want me to move in?"

"Well, yeah," Kurt shrugged. "I mean, I'm here all by myself. Rachel and Finn are in an apartment upstairs, so it's just me. I mean, there's a spare room which you can have, but it gets awfully lonely in that double bed of mine."

He saw Blaine's mouth tilt up at the corners and it reminded him of the old Blaine, the guy he had fallen in love with. "You really just forgive me?" Blaine asked. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," Kurt nodded and he reached over and took Blaine's hand in his. "I'm glad you're here. I was on the verge of getting a plane ticket home just so that I could force you to speak to me again."

Blaine chuckled. "I probably would have left town."

Kurt smiled and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "So, are we okay?" he asked. "We're good again?"

"We're good again," Blaine nodded. "If you're okay with that."

"I'm more than okay with that," Kurt assured him. "Come on," he said tugging Blaine's arm gently. "Let me show you around."

"It's not that huge—"

"Oh, you don't want to see the bedroom?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Oh, okay, then. Let's watch some TV and—"

"On second thoughts, wow, this place is like a maze, maybe a tour wouldn't be so bad."

Kurt grinned and pulled Blaine up of the sofa and tugged him into his bedroom.

* * *

><p>Kurt's bedroom was also very Kurt. Everything was matched and coordinated and neat and tidy and rich and elegant and stylish and everything that Kurt was. Blaine looked around with a smile.<p>

"You're right," he said, walking towards the rectangular window. "That bed must get pretty lonely all by yourself."

"You have no idea."

"I have some idea," Blaine smiled slightly. "I've been sleeping in your bed by myself for the past six months or so."

"Oh, right," Kurt nodded. "I forgot about that. So, what do you think? Think you can handle sharing this room with me?"

"So long as you promise to make room over there for my hair gel," Blaine teased, gesturing across at the dresser, which was covered in various products and hairsprays and other cosmetics that Blaine couldn't make out from across the room.

"I'm not sure that's a promise I can make," Kurt told him. "So, what's the plan out here?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you that part, did I?"

"What part?"

"Okay, so I locked myself in your room all yesterday and I applied to colleges, like, everywhere around here. I'm bound to get into one, right? Until then, I'll just get a job, or something."

"Really?" Kurt smiled, moving closer to Blaine. "You mean it?"

"Of course," Blaine smiled and he reached out for Kurt's hand again. "I have been the biggest asshole alive lately and I'm going to spend the rest of forever making it up to you."

"You don't have to," Kurt said. "But since you're going to end up filthy rich, what with this 'deal' with your dad and all, then what the hey. I'll take what I can get."

Blaine tugged him forward and rested his hands on his hips. "You just want me for my cash."

"Among other things."

"My cash and my body," Blaine smiled, nose inches from Kurt's. "First kiss in six months," he whispered, then slowly moved his head forward until his lips met Kurt's. It started off slow, experimental, but then Blaine slid his arms around Kurt's body and tilted him until he was flat on his back on the bed. Kurt's hands found their way into Blaine's hair and standing there, entwined like that, it was as if they had never left one another. It all felt so natural, so familiar, so _right._

After a long make-out session, they broke apart and just lay there, breathing, lips swollen, bodies hot, chests rising and falling quickly as they caught their breath. Blaine felt as if he had no more worries, which was new to him. He felt as if he had walked around his entire life with a heavy weight on his shoulders, his heart weighed down by some kind of bulky, metal object, but now, all of that was gone. He felt like he could really breathe, for the first time in a long, long time.

"Know what we should do?" Kurt uttered, after a few heartbeats of silence. He leaned up onto his elbows and looked down at Blaine.

"Hmm?"

"We should go get your stuff, come back and get you acquainted with my sheets."

"Tempting," Blaine said. "But I was thinking we could just sort of.. Hang out, until tonight, obviously."

"Why?" Kurt asked, quietly. He looked as if he was afraid he had done something wrong.

"Because it's been six months and I've missed just having you with me," Blaine told him. "Not because of any great reason. I mean, you still drive me crazy, but we've got plenty of time for that, right? I just want to hold onto you for a while."

Kurt gave him a nod and a smile. "So, what about your things?"

"Awfully keen to get me moved in, aren't we, baby?" He saw Kurt's smile grow when he called him baby. The baby/babe thing was one of those little things in their relationship, something that made it their very own.

"We're going to be like an old, married couple, I can see it now."

"Hey, some day, right?" Blaine smiled, moving to face his boyfriend. It felt good to refer to Kurt as his boyfriend again.

"Some day what?"

"Some day we'll be an old, married couple."

"Seriously?" Kurt asked and Blaine gave him a nod. "You think we can make it?"

Blaine grinned and pressed a light kiss to Kurt's swollen, red lips. "I think we're strong, we love each other and we've already been through enough crap to last us a life time, yet we still came out winning. I think we can do anything."

"How wise of you."

"You're perfect," Blaine told him.

"I missed you."

"I'm sorry."

"I know," Kurt nodded, slowly.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Hey, Kurt?"

"Hmm?"

"Happy Valentine's day."

"It certainly is."

Blaine smiled. "I didn't even get you a card, or anything."

"You're here," Kurt said. "That's more than enough."

"We should go do something for the day," Blaine said. "We can go get my things and then go get dinner, or something, because I haven't eaten anything since about 8AM."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *

><p>In the end, Kurt and Blaine ate out first, then collected Blaine's things from the hotel. They spent a long time putting his clothes away and getting him settled into the apartment. Burt had called half way through and asked if everything had gone okay and Kurt assured him that it had.<p>

"You," Kurt said, closing the closet door, once they had unpacked all of Blaine's things. "Have far too many bowties."

"You can never have too many bowties," Blaine smiled, collapsing down on the bed.

"I can't say I agree," Kurt said, then went and lay down next to him, smiling, because it hadn't yet entirely registered that Blaine was actually here and was going to stay here, for good.

"Oh, hush, you love the bowties," Blaine smirked.

"Not as much as I love you," he said, leaning across and flicked the light switch off and they were left in darkness.

Blaine hit the switch on the lamp and the dim glow filled the room. He moved then and leaned over Kurt, then bent his body until he was on top of him. "I missed you," he said, slipping one hand down to clasp the waistband of Kurt's jeans.

"You missed me or you missed having sex with me?" Kurt smirked up at Blaine.

"Both," Blaine replied. "Mostly you, though. I screwed up."

"We both did at one point or another," Kurt told him.

"Yeah, but me more than you," Blaine said, smile fading. "I'm more sorry than you know."

"Stop apologising," Kurt said. "And take my clothes off."

* * *

><p>"God, I've missed you so—<em>Jesus Christ, Blaine<em>—so much," Kurt panted beneath Blaine as he slipped in and out of him. Blaine felt as if he could feel Kurt's heart beating against his chest. His hands were gripping Blaine's hips, pulling him closer. Blaine couldn't manage coherent words, he just moaned a little bit.

Kurt's head was thrown back, his eyes half-closed, mouth half-open. Blaine was close now and he had to shut his eyes, because if he kept looking at Kurt, that would be it, he wouldn't last another second. Blaine reached down and pulled Kurt closer, never slowing the thrust of his hips. He reached between them and took Kurt's erection in his hand and Kurt _whimpered _and that was it, Blaine was gone. He came hard and fast inside Kurt, his hips stuttering forward and Kurt cried out and arched his back, pushing himself into Blaine's hand, needing him to finish this.

Blaine slowed his hips then and pumped his hand harder on Kurt's cock. He looked amazing in the insipid light, as it cast shadows all over his pale, smooth skin. Kurt's hands were gripping the bedspread beneath him, clawing at the material. Blaine could see him swallowing hard, his neck bared as he pushed his head further backwards. Blaine lowered his head and pressed his lips to Kurt's wan neck. He sucked his skin into his mouth and his hand continued to push itself up and down Kurt's hard length.

"Come for me," Blaine whispered against Kurt's neck. "Come on, pretty boy. Come for me."

Blaine sucked the skin of Kurt's neck into his mouth, marking him just over his pulse. It only took a couple more thrusts of Blaine's hand and Kurt was coming, a loud whine escaping his lips, sounding suspiciously like Blaine's name. Blaine stopped the movement of his hand and let Kurt go, before collapsing on top of him. He eased himself out of Kurt's stretched opening and just lay there, on top of him, breathing laboured.

"You're amazing," he told Kurt once he had caught his breath. He leaned up and looked down into those cerulean blue orbs. They were as spectacular as always and when he smiled, it went all the way to his eyes. "You're amazing and I'm crazy in love with you and all I want is to hold you for the rest of time."

"I love you," Kurt said and his voice sounded a little thick. "I can't pinpoint the precise moment that I fell for you, but God, I'm just so in love with you. Promise me you're not going anywhere this time."

"I never went anywhere," Blaine told him, with a smile. "I never did and I never will."

* * *

><p>Kurt came out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Blaine was already in the bed, his back to Kurt. He was facing the window, just staring out into the night. Kurt smiled to himself and went closer, his legs wobbling a little. He ignored the slight burn when he walked (it had been a long time) and then he climbed into the bed next to Blaine and moved up close to him.<p>

Blaine twisted back a little when Kurt climbed in beside him. He smiled and his eyes were bright in the low glow of the moon slipping through the slightly ajar blinds. Blaine shuddered when Kurt laced his arms around his body. He shifted until he faced him and wrapped his own arms around Kurt's waist.

"This might be the best feeling in the world," Kurt whispered.

"Definitely," Blaine agreed. "I think I've finally got it right."

"Got what right?"

"Everything," Blaine informed him. "Everything's right."

"Yeah," Kurt agreed. "Everything's right."

Blaine reached down and took Kurt's left hand in his. He pulled it up and out from underneath the covers. Kurt watched as he pressed their bracelets together, the light of the silver moon clashing against them. Kurt gave him a quizzical expression. Blaine smiled.

"Do you ever think about the beginning?" he asked, lacing his fingers with Kurt's. "Like, way back at the start? I do sometimes. I was just thinking about it while you were moisturising, or whatever, in the bathroom. It's like.. This started off as a complete mess. You hated me—"

"Disliked," Kurt corrected. "Never hated."

"Okay," Blaine smiled. "You _disliked _me. I was scared to admit I liked you and I acted like the biggest tool alive. And then it got better. I mean, yeah, it got worse again, but look at us now. We made it."

"Yeah," Kurt nodded. "Yeah, I guess we did."

"It's weird, though, isn't it?" Blaine asked. "I mean, it feels the same as ever, but it feels different, too. I mean, we're still us, but we're us in New York city. This is _surreal_, baby!" He drew out the word 'surreal'.

"Yeah," Kurt said. "It does feel a little surreal, but in a good way."

"In the _best _way," Blaine emitted.

"Right," Kurt smiled, then took Blaine's wrist in his hand. He held the bracelet up to the light, so that they could read the words.

_"I want to take you far from the cynics in this town  
>and kiss you on the mouth."<em>

Kurt locked his blue eyes on Blaine's golden-brown ones and gave him his best smile. "Guess we did that," he said. "Got away, made it here."

Blaine leaned across and pressed his lips to Kurt's. "And now we've kissed each other on the mouth." Kurt laughed and then Blaine was shoving his wrist into the light. "And," Blaine began. "Every time I look at you, I get knocked sideways, only now I'm not waiting for time to get rid of how I feel about you. I just want it to keep getting better and better and it is. I love you more with every passing day."

Kurt tried to ignore the fluttering feeling inside his chest, but it was hard, especially with Blaine so close. "We have to be the cheesiest couple on the planet."

"I prefer the _'cutest'_," Blaine told him.

"Okay, fine. The cutest, then," Kurt corrected himself. "We should go to sleep," he said, letting Blaine's wrist go. Blaine's hands slipped back around him and Kurt pressed the palms of his own hands to Blaine's bare chest.

"Okay," Blaine nodded and then he was moving closer and then pushing himself over Kurt's body. "I have three things to tell you first."

"Mm, alright," Kurt smiled up at Blaine, his eyes wild and bright in the pale light.

"Number one," Blaine said. "I love you."

And he pulled Kurt's hand up and pressed a warm kiss to his knuckles.

"Number two," Blaine said, letting Kurt's hand go. "I love you."

And he lowered his mouth and pressed the tiniest, butterfly kiss to Kurt's lips.

Kurt smiled. "And number three," Blaine uttered, finally. "_I love you._"

And he crushed his mouth down over Kurt's and slipped his tongue past his teeth and kissed him like he hadn't kissed him in a hundred thousand years. When he pulled back, he smiled down at Kurt. Kurt smiled back and lifted a hand to Blaine's cheek.

"I love you, too."

And then Blaine caught Kurt in his arms and pulled them both onto their sides. He moved in and wrapped himself around him and whispered that he loved him once more, before they both fell asleep, clinging to one another like that, their shadows entwined, as the opalescent moon fell out of the New York sky.

They opened their eyes when the sun came up and they smiled, because this was it. This was where they belonged, in one another's arms.

They were finally home.

* * *

><p><strong>That's it, that's the end. This is just the smut scene I skipped over from chapter 14, that someone asked me to write back then, so I'm adding it here :)<strong>

* * *

><p><em>He's like a rollercoaster,<br>__And I'm afraid of heights,  
><em>_But still there's nothing to stop me from getting off this ride,  
><em>_Oh, I just can't let you go._

**Field Scene From Chapter 14:**

"I remember the first time I ever came here," Blaine said, lying next to Kurt in the soft grass, as they watched the stars above. "I was thirteen and my parents were fighting and I just needed to get away, because I felt like banging my head against a wall. I couldn't listen to them. I had to get out of there, so I just walked downstairs and left the house and they didn't even notice me going. I remember just walking, feeling dazed and dizzy and not knowing where I was going and then when I got too exhausted to go on, I just stopped and I found myself right out there, where we parked. I walked through and I just lay here for hours. I've been coming here ever since."

"And you've managed to never get murdered out here," Kurt smiled a bit. "That's impressive in itself."

Blaine chuckled. "No one else knows I come here."

"Why me?" Kurt asked, next to him. "Why bring me here?"

"It felt right," Blaine shrugged. "I wanted you to know something about me that no one else knew. Well. Other than the fact that we slept together."

Kurt only nodded and Blaine hoped he understood what that meant, because he found it difficult to say it out loud.

"I have a feeling I'll be spending a lot of time here after tomorrow," Blaine said, then.

"I'm here for you, Blaine," Kurt told him and Blaine resisted the urge to ask him how long he was willing to still be there for him. "For whatever you need."

Blaine leaned up and looked down at Kurt, his bright blue eyes glistening in the light of the silver stars. "What I need," he told Kurt, his voice thick. "Is you."

Something flickered in Kurt's eyes and he seemed to understand. He gave a small inclination of his head and Blaine took that as a sign of permission to just go ahead and take him. He lowered himself down and caught Kurt's mouth with his own, his heart hammering in his chest and kissed him like he was the source of everlasting life, like he just couldn't get enough.

And in a way, he couldn't. There was something about him that was just so God damned _addicting _and Blaine couldn't let him go, no matter how hard he , he didn't even want to let go, he just wanted to hold on forever and forget the rest of the stupid world and just _be_.

Kurt was sucking on his bottom lip and Blaine was slipping his hands under his shirt and tracing invisible lines over his smooth, pale, white skin. Kurt's knee shifted and Blaine lowered his crotch down to it and ground himself against it. Kurt gasped a little against his lips and Blaine just needed him. He looked so amazing in the pale light and..

"I want to top," he told Kurt, before he could stop himself. "Please, I just want.. I _need_.."

"Okay," Kurt nodded, eagerly. "Okay, yes."

Blaine hadn't topped before and he could see the glimmer of nervousness in Kurt's blue eyes, but he would take his time, do this right, make sure it was good for him. He groaned a bit, needing more, so he reached down and unclasped Kurt's pants. He slid them down and Kurt's chest stilled for a moment, then he breathed again.

It wasn't long before Blaine had stripped Kurt completely of his clothes. He shrugged his own pants off and pretty soon, he was naked, too. Kurt reached up and pulled him down and slipped his tongue into his mouth, hungrily, like he wanted Blaine as much as he wanted him.

Blaine couldn't wait another moment. He slipped his fingers into Kurt's mouth and Kurt sucked on them, understanding. In a few seconds, he slipped his hand down Kurt's body and found his tight entrance. He'd fingered him more than once now, it was something he enjoyed more than he should have. Kurt arched his back, his erection digging into Blaine's stomach. Blaine crooked his finger inside Kurt and he whimpered under him, his eyes fluttering shut, those thick lashes dancing in the motion.

Blaine slipped his hand back out and got his fingers wet again, this time with his own mouth. He bent his hand back down and slid two fingers in this time and Kurt hissed a bit, but protested when Blaine stopped, so he kept going. It took a little bit of time, but soon his was slipping his fingers in and out freely, without hurting Kurt too badly. Then when Kurt was stretched enough, he slid his fingers back out and Kurt moaned a little at the loss.

Then Kurt was pushing Blaine backwards. His back hit the cool blanket underneath them and Kurt was hovering over him, his eyes a shade darker than usual. After a moment, Kurt was moving lower. He pressed an open mouthed kiss to Blaine's chest, then trailed more hot kisses down his body until he reached his lower stomach. He kissed him there for a little while, then pushed himself up. He was looking down at Blaine's erection. Blaine watched as Kurt licked his swelled lips, then fell down and pushed his mouth down over Blaine's cock.

"Oh, _fuck._"

Kurt's mouth was wet and hot and sucking on him his hand gripping the base. Blaine flung his head back when Kurt's tongue slid over the slit and he just wasn't going to be able to last if he kept on like that.

"Stop," he groaned. "I need.. Kurt. Stop, or I'm d-done."

Kurt removed his mouth and the cool air hit Blaine and he just needed to be inside Kurt and fast. He moved himself upwards then pushed Kurt gently down and lifted his legs.

"Slowly," Kurt directed.

Blaine nodded. He wouldn't hurt him. He kneeled between Kurt's thighs and positioned himself so that he was in line with his opening. He reached down and pressed himself against the tight, puckered hole, then slid in very, very slowly and low, guttural sounds were escaping Kurt's swelled, pink lips.

"Okay?" Blaine asked.

"Fine," he told him. "Just.. Don't move, or I'll kill you."

Blaine smiled on instinct and he reached down to touch Kurt's own erection, just while he got used to the intrusion.

"That's not helping," Kurt choked out, when Blaine slipped his thumb over the slit of Kurt's cock.

"Sorry," he said, but he wasn't sorry, not really. How could he be when Kurt looked like _that _beneath him.

"Want to try moving?"

He didn't have to ask him twice. Blaine let Kurt go and moved to rest a hand on either side of his body, then he pulled his hips backwards, then plunged forward again.

"_Jesus Christ, fuck you, Blaine_." Blaine couldn't help smiling at that. He slowed down again, but Kurt shook his head. "No, no. Keep going. It'll be—_shit—_It'll be fine. Go."

Blaine nodded and began to slide himself in and out of Kurt, carefully, wanting to just go faster, because this tightness and heat was driving him nuts and he just wanted to move in and out of him as quickly as possible, just needing him more than anything else in the whole world.

"Faster."

Blaine raised an eyebrow when Kurt said that. "Are you s—"

"I said faster, Blaine, just do it."

He wavered there for a few moments, then obliged. He began to thrust himself in and out harder and faster and Kurt was moaning really loudly and he tried to stop, because he really did not want to hurt him, no matter how good it felt, but Kurt kept demanding he keep going and he wanted him to go harder and Blaine couldn't believe his ears.

He was so close, pushing himself in and out of Kurt with ease, his mouth open wide. He was watching Kurt's blue eyes through his lashes, his face, the way his mouth was opening and closing ad how he kept running his tongue, slowly over his lips.

"God, Blaine," Kurt whined, then. "I'm about to—"

And then Kurt was coming and Blaine was watching him open mouthed, because he'd come simply from Blaine being inside him and that amazed him. It was enough to send him flying over the edge, because then Blaine was coming, still inside Kurt, shooting his load into his tight hole and they didn't even have any protection. Blaine couldn't bring himself to care about that, not at that moment, because Kurt looked and felt and sounded so amazing, lying there, covered in his own come, his mouth wet and open, his milky lids covering those bright blue orbs.

Blaine eased himself out, then and bent to kiss Kurt's lips. He kissed him back lazily, murmuring incoherent words against his mouth. Blaine pulled the second blanket up over then and rolled back to lie beside him. He looked up at the sky and caught his breath, grateful for the cool air and the calming moon and stars. His heart was beating way too quickly, but not because he regretted anything, just because Kurt did things to him, things he could not begin to understand.

It was Kurt who spoke first.

"Did we just—we just had sex in a field," he said, surprise evident in his voice. "Oh my God. We just had sex in a field."

* * *

><p><strong>The song lyrics at the start of that field scene are from a song called Can't Let You Go (by Jesse McCartney, also. I love him, if you didn't notice). Anyway, I can't believe this is finally over. I don't know what I'll do without it lol.<strong>

**First off, HUGE thank you to every one of you that read and reviewed this. You have no idea how much that means to me. I didn't expect anyone to even read this when I started it. I feel like I only started it yesterday, but at the same time it feels like I've been writing it for ages. This is my first multi-chapter Klaine fic and it'll always be special to me. I've laughed and cried and smiled and frowned and thrown things at walls and screamed and felt just about every emotion in the world while writing this, but I've loved writing it, I really have.**

**Biggest ever thank you to Rebecca (m-arvel on tumblr) for being right there from the very beginning. She's been pre-reading it ever since I first thought about it and she's overall just fabulous (even if she did fall asleep in tinychat). If you're looking for an angst-ridden fic, her fic Cough Syrup is in my favourites and what she's told me about where it's going might just kill me. She has also been my DJ all throughout this fic and she came up with the song that I used for the title, so I owe her for this!**

**Thank you to Fallon (justxlosersxlikexme on tumblr) who reviews in my ask and listens to me ranting about this. She's been there from the time I started posting this and hasn't given up on it.**

**Also, a strange thank you to Maggie (golden-eyed-alchemist on tumblr) because even though she hasn't even read this, she's let me rant on about it. She also likes to made crude jokes about the title lol.**

**Also thank you to Ashley (ashx3you2 on tumblr) and Denise (niseywasakaleidoscope on tumblr) for helping me with the schooling system, because I was panicking a bit over that.**

**Lastly, thank you to all of you for sticking with this, no matter when you started reading. Thank you for the fanart and the liveblogs and the messages and reviews and just EVERYTHING. I love all of you so much, you don't even know what it means to me. **

**I don't know what I'm doing next, because a few people have asked. I was thinking about a sequel, but I don't know about that yet. I had another sort-of-idea for a new fic, too, so maybe I'll do that. You can message me on here if you're interested in knowing, or you can find me on tumblr (likechildreninafairytale) and when I figure it out, I'll tell you there. Let me know what you want, too, because I'll do whatever. **

**I'm sorry about not replying to every review in the last few chapters, I let them pile-up once and then after that I lost my place a bit, but I read and appreciate every single one of you.**

**So, that's it. It's over. **

**Thank you and I love you.**

**Jamie.**

**x**


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